


Bookstores, Bentleys, and Everything Between: A Good Omens Short Story Collection

by Mx_Jay



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Demonic Influence, Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Eventual Relationships, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone has anxiety, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gender Neutral Character, Happy Ending, Injury, Mental Health Issues, Mood Swings, Multi, Multi Chapter, Multiple Partners, My First Work in This Fandom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Story Arc, Wish Fulfillment, angelic influence, as we go along, but the reader will join that relationship later, chaotic boy crowley, crowley and aziraphale in an established relationship, current chapter includes, dont tell them, gaygxnji inspired me to write this, holy shit tags are hard, just a little, when i say that i mean aziraphale and crowley are already in a relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2020-05-31 00:56:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mx_Jay/pseuds/Mx_Jay
Summary: A collection of stories that are out of order about the meeting and development of a relationship between Aziraphale, Crowley, and an original character. Aziraphale and Crowley are already in an established relationship, they accidentally both catch feelings for a human. This will be multi chapter, and I have no idea how long this is going to be. Original character will be written without a gender in mind, nor an appearance, nor a name. Project as much as you'd like :)





	1. Meetings (SFW)

You weren’t sure, a few months after your initial meeting, whether meeting Aziraphale was some sort of divine destiny, or random chance. You didn’t know whether to thank God, your lucky stars, or some other force of the universe that drove you into his bookshop one rainy day. Perhaps you should have thanked your ex, who was stalking you at the time, but you wouldn’t want to bless his memory if you can help it. Below is an account of what happened on that peculiar day. 

* * *

Rain splattered against your new leather jacket, a gift your brother had purchased as a belated birthday present. It fit your curves nicely, and as an added bonus, it kept most of the cold weather out. Unfortunately, your jealous ex, Alexander, saw the gift as a declaration of love from some unknown paramor. That had been the final straw for the both of you. He proceeded to throw objects and shout, and after thinking that perhaps you deserved to be with someone who treated you better, you had stormed out of his apartment and stomped down Soho, in the West End of London.

You bitterly sloshed through puddles, muttering curses under your breath. Occasionally, you could hear quiet footsteps coming from behind. You snuck a glance over your shoulder, and saw Alexander furiously striding towards you. Your anger was snuffed out, now replaced with a cold panic in your body. You sped up your stride, and so did he. You began to slow down, and he followed suit. He always kept about thirty feet away from you. You closed your eyes and tried to think. What was it that you were taught about situations like this? If someone is following you, and you don’t think their intentions are good, then go into a public place, because they will be less likely to try something if people are around. Though you were already walking on a public street, the rain was bad enough to drive most people indoors. Therefore, it was the best decision to duck into a shop. Your eyes fluttered open, and you began looking at shop signs in the corners of your eyes. You weren’t sure how long Alexander would be willing to keep this game up, before doing something… well, you weren’t afraid of his intentions a few months ago, but times had changed, and it was best to stay away from him now.

Many places were still open, but where would the most likely help come from? Some places looked full but seedy, like run down pubs, and others looked practically empty and begging for customers. Suddenly, at the end of the block there was a bookshop. A perfect place to go, right? Everybody loved bookshops, the place was probably swarming with people. Without giving it any further thought, you sped up your pace and practically dove into the store, shutting the door harder than intended. There was a bell jangling above the door frame in an old timey fashion, and despite the situation you were in, you spared a thought about how cute that was. Without anything else to do, you scooted over to the nearest protected wall, and squished yourself against it. You felt the excess water on your jacket run down the wall, and you sent a mental apology to whoever owned the place. Suddenly, a male voice called out from the back, “Sorry, the shop’s closed today for cleaning. Please come back another time.” His voice sounded somewhat posh, and frosty. You bit your lip and tried to focus beyond your fear. You called out, “I’m sorry, normally I would follow the social expectation given and leave, bu-” 

“But what?” the voice replied, taking on an irritated tone. “You can’t resist the allure of a rare book, even though if you buy it and carry it home in this weather it will receive extensive water damage?” 

“N-no,” you continued, “it’s just that I-”

“You what?” the voice sharpened in tone. “You’ve come to bother shopkeepers who just want to be left alone? For God- for goodness sake, there’s been a stream of unwanted customers all day! It makes me want to close early!” 

“I thought you said you were already closed.” you muttered, and rested the back of your head against the wall. Alexander was still walking towards the shop. If the owner threw you out now, he would have shoved you directly in your ex’s path. Your voice got louder as you pressed on. “Please listen to me. I’m being followed by someone. I’m seeking a place- a temporary place mind you! Just for a few minutes until he passes by.” Your breathing became more erratic. “A-and then if you never want me to come back, then I won’t. I’m only asking for a few moments of safety.” 

There was only silence in reply. You traced dust motes through the air with your eyes. You shifted with uncertainty, the floorboards creaking slightly under your thighs. You cautiously got up and peeked out the window. Alexander was right outside, scanning left and right, looking confused. You ducked back down before you could be spotted. 

From the back of the shop, a man sighed. You heard a sort of clicking sound, similar to the snap of your fingers. Then the man from the other end of the shop walked out towards you. His hair was golden and curled. His eyes were a sharp blue and snappish. His lips were set in a half frown that was starting to melt as he peered at you. He had a roundish face, and had a build that looked like he enjoyed eating. At least you were in fairly good company then. He was dressed in an all white suit, with a brown vest underneath. The only hint of major color in his outfit was his red tartan bow tie. He also wore dark brown dress shoes. You both looked into each other’s eyes, and he seemed to soften a little, his back becoming less tight, his eyes no longer looking like blue lightning about to strike. He glanced over to where the door was, and as you followed his gaze, you realize that the correct way to phrase it would be, “where the door used to be”. Because where the door _used_ to be, there was now nothing but smooth wall. You gaped, breathless, and turned to the stranger. “How did you…” you trailed off, mind racing. He took half a step back, hands coming up in a form of surrender. “Ah, well, you see… you- you- you are dreaming!” He finished, laughing nervously. He waved his hands in a vague mystical manner. “You are asleep, and-and-and-” he trailed off, hands still nervously fretting. He had nice hands, you noticed in a moment of pure brain fog. They looked soft and warm. Then you snapped back to attention. “You aren’t a very good liar, you know.” you said. He sighed. “I’ve been told.” You stood up unsteadily, leaning against the wall for support. Your legs ached from being in an uncomfortable position for a long time. 

Again, his eyes slid over to where the door used to be, before turning back to you. “What can you tell me about this person who is following you?” 

“His name is Alexander and he-”

The wall made a thud where your ex’s fist hit it. Without giving it any thought, you stumbled closer to this strange man, who for some inexplicable reason, immediately took a defensive stance, one arm sweeping wide, and pushing you back a little, placing himself further in front of you. Your ex called your name, making it sound harsh and guttural in his anger. Before you could do anything else, the man called out, “Our shop is closed for the day! Please do not call upon us again.” Alexander pounded a little more, before swearing and storming off. The wall didn’t budge, and you caught your breath. You turned to him, relief shining through your eyes and smile. “Thank you!” 

He returned the smile, pleasantly surprised by your reaction. “Not a problem, ah, I don’t believe I caught your name.” You told him. His smile brightened a little more. “How about you? What’s your name?” you asked. He told you his name was Aziraphale. You nodded, memorizing the name by whispering to yourself. The name felt good on your lips. “Well, thank you for the unexpected protection,” you began. “But I should probably be on my way.” His smile slipped slightly, and you felt a small tinge of guilt. You pressed on anyway. “Would you mind opening the, uh…” shuffling nervously, you gestured to the wall. He held up a hand, stopping your train of thought. “I understand that you might be nervous because of you aren’t able to get out of the building as quickly as you like,” (To be honest, the thought of being even a little afraid of him seemed ridiculous, though you couldn’t think why.) “But whoever was following you might still be lurking around for a while. Perhaps it would be better to wait for a little longer before you leave.” he suddenly turned away, gesturing grandly to the back. “There’s a kettle about to boil, and I’ve got some scones just fresh from the oven; can I tempt you into staying?” you couldn’t think if you had ever felt a temptation so… tempting. Aziraphale was offering additional protection, free food and drink, and the possibility of sitting in a comfy chair. You could say no, and you trusted that he would let you go without a second question, but why would you? Your shoulders relaxed, and tension leaked out of your body. “I’d be happy to, please lead the way.” He turned and walked towards his backroom, trusting you to follow. 

A few minutes later, you were both sitting in chairs across from each other. The chair you were sitting in was comfy to an absurd degree. The seat was soft, and you sank into it, but the chair also had good back support. It was made from some sort of worn leather, used gently for several years, and extremely cozy. Aziraphale pressed a cup of chamomile tea into your hands, and the steam rose from the cup, warming your face. The place was decorated with several tapestries hanging on the wall. They were muted browns and dusty reds, creating an almost intimate setting. It seemed a rather strange contrast to what you assumed was Aziraphale’s usual style. The both of you babbled about this and that. Aziraphale talked about his favorite places for a good meal, and though you hadn’t visited many of his usual spots, you knew enough about them to know their high quality and prices. Your eyebrows rose upon hearing this. “How on earth do you get tables at those places? Isn’t The Ritz always booked up for about six months at a time?” Aziraphale attempted to hide his smile behind his tea cup which held an English Breakfast blend. “I’ve always been sort of lucky, spots just happen to open up at convenient times, so Crowley and I will snatch them up when they appear.”

(Later, you found out this was a lie. Spots were miracled into existence.)

He seemed to find something amusing about this, but you shrugged and let the subject matter drop. Crowley seemed to be someone he enjoyed talking about, whoever he was. Aziraphale explained that was Crowley his ‘partner’ and you weren’t sure if he meant a partner in a relationship sense or a business sense. Either way, you didn’t care. Aziraphale was cute, excitable and fluttering from one topic to the next, time passed quicker than you expected, and before you knew it, the sun had gone down, and the few stars that could get through the light pollution of London shone dimly. Your ex was long gone by now, and you bid Aziraphale a goodnight. As you turned away, you heard the clicking of fingers, and the door rematerialized from where the wall had replaced it. You blinked, remembering that he had made the door disappear in the first place, and your mind reeled with possible ideas about what Aziraphale was. Human was definitely off the list. You bade him farewell, thinking about ways to repay his kindness.

Two days later, the solution for repayment was now in your hands. You had received it as a consolation from your mother when she heard about the breakup. Though from her expression and tone, perhaps it was celebratory gift instead. It was some homemade lemon curd. Sour flavors weren’t your favorite, exactly, but you thought Aziraphale might enjoy the curd if paired with some of his scones, so you headed off in the direction of his bookshop, wondering what his face would look like when he saw it. Unfortunately, when you arrived and heard the familiar bell tinkle above the door, it was a different voice ringing through the shop. 

“Shop’s closed. Leave.” it was a different voice, deeper than Aziraphale’s, and rougher around the edges. He already sounded annoyed, whereas it took Aziraphale a little more to show the same annoyance. Once more, you plucked up your courage, and spoke up. “Sorry, I’m here to see Aziraphale. Is he not in today?” The stranger sucked in a breath through his teeth, and let out a long enduring sigh. “He isn’t, but you can leave a message, or get out.” Yikes. Better make this quick then. “I have a gift for him, because he helped me last night.” The man strode out of the back of the shop with a confident swagger to his step. “Are you the one he helped with the stalker last night?” he asked, looking you up and down, annoyed at first, but the look was replaced with something a little more… appreciative. “Yes, I came here to repay his kindness yesterday.” you explained. He approached the counter, and you stared at him closely. He looked like the same Crowley that was described to you last night. He had red hair that would look soft to the touch if it weren’t gelled up to enormous proportions. He was thin, boney, his cheekbones were high on his face, his eyes hidden behind thick black shades. He was wearing a leather jacket similar to yours, and though his bottom half was obscured by the counter, it was a fairly easy conclusion to make that he was either wearing black skinny jeans or some other leather ensemble below.

“Aziraphale told me about someone who looks kind of like you. Your name wouldn’t happen to be Crowley, would it?” You asked. He arched a single sculpted eyebrow, and nodded once. “What did you bring him?” He replied. You plonked the lemon curd down on the counter for his inspection. He picked it up and examined it closely. “Aziraphale will like this, he always has some scones after tea.” You beamed at Crowley, relieved that you had made a good choice. He looked surprised at your smile, and asked, “Would you like to browse the shop?” though it was an absolute golden opportunity to learn more about these strangers, you had to decline. You were apartment hunting in an attempt to get away from Alexander. The truth was, you had slept in your car the night Aziraphale had let you go, and you saw your mother first thing in the morning. The sooner you were moved into an apartment and away from your ex’s nonsense, the more secure you would start to feel. You shook your head, bade farewell, and walked towards the exit. “Hey!” Crowley called to you. “Come back soon, hmm?” you smiled, waved, and left the bookshop.


	2. Songbird (SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get anxious about a request Crowley has asked of you, and you, he, and Aziraphale talk it out. SFW

Note: This takes place about 12 months after the first chapter.

Crowley was up to something, you were sure of it. You weren't the biggest fan of perpetuating stereotypes, but it was almost in his nature to be plotting. Granted, you had heard stories of other demons and their acts of evil, and Crowley wasn’t nearly as bad in comparison, even if he liked to pretend otherwise. Still, there was something in the air of Aziraphale and Crowley’s shared apartment that made you shift uneasily. This was only happening because of your dreadful mistake: Crowley had heard you singing in the shower. Ever since then, he had tried multiple times to get you to perform for him and Aziraphale. Your stomach clenched at the thought. It was always easier to sing in private than in public, even if the public in this case was only two people. He had tried several temptations to get you to sing already, such as a free trip in the Bentley wherever you wanted to go, and a meal at The Ritz. They were each sorely tempting, as there was an interesting exhibit on Oscar Wilde at a museum about an hour away, and normally you wouldn’t turn down free high quality food from an upscale restaurant.

But the mortification! What if you hit a wrong note? Or sang flatly? Or your voice could crack. What if they changed their minds about your ability half way through the performance? What if they decided you were a terrible singer? You couldn’t imagine anything worse happening if you performed. So your will was firmer than steel. No matter what was offered, letting them purposefully hear you sing was completely off the table. Luckily, Aziraphale had not gotten in on the tempting as far as you could tell. If the both of them combined their forces together, then you might as well dash out of London for a few days.

You worked in the kitchen while you thought over this, stirring some batter to make scones. Suddenly, Aziraphale walked into the shared apartment all of you co-owned. It was a new human idea he was practicing, instead of directly miracling in front of you. The amount of jumpscares you had received had dropped dramatically when he had made the change a few weeks ago. “I’m back from the bookshop!” he called out. “Hey Aziraphale,” you replied. “Is Crowley with you?” his footsteps tapped on the hardwood paneling, making his way to you. “No, he’s out on a quick temptation. He’ll be back in a tick.” your jaw twitched at the word ‘temptation’ but you quickly forced yourself to relax. It probably didn’t have anything to do with you. He appeared in the kitchen while you were still stirring the mixing bowl. He glanced over at the bowl’s contents, and hummed a worried note. His wings materialized, stretching from the hidden place he kept them. He half wrapped one wing around you. That was unexpected. You turned to him, expecting an explanation. He gave one. “You’ve stirred the mixture too much, so the scones will come out flatter than they should be. I can tell by the emotional content coming out of the bowl and its texture. You seem to be lost in your own head dear, and we can’t have that. What’s wrong?”

You sighed and let the wooden spoon sink into the bowl. Turning to Aziraphale, you eyed him suspiciously for a moment before coming to a decision, and sunk your head into his chest. He wrapped both wings around you and held you there for a few moments. His wings were really soft to the touch, feeling silky and light. He was naturally warm; having the glory of heaven run through a human form had the tendency to do that. His suit was a little rough on your forehead and nose, but it made for an interesting difference in texture, which you could focus on while you attempted to keep up with your emotions. Even though the wings were lightweight, they were far from fragile. You nuzzled into his chest, hoping he would get the message and hold you tighter. He did. To be honest, this whole singing business had brought up a lot of old feelings. It was kind of a long story, and you knew you might have to give Aziraphale some kind of explanation for the feelings that were running high. Until he asked for one, you wanted to stay here for as long as possible. His arm came forward and he began to run his fingers through your hair. Your eyes fluttered shut in response. He began to hum softly, an old 18th century hymn that had long fallen out of popularity. His other hand came up and began caressing your cheek. Without thinking much about it, you grabbed the hand that was touching your cheek, brought it to your lips and kissed his palm. He sighed and returned his hand to your face. “I can feel you’re still stressed, dear. Should we move this to the couch?”

The couch in question was a large, overstuffed monstrosity with soft upholstery. You knew from practical experience that it was big enough to accommodate all three of you in a cuddle puddle. You shrugged in response to his question, and he gently corralled you with his wings on to the furniture in question. You both sunk into the couch, Aziraphale lying half on top of you, providing a nice weight. He continued humming, but it wasn’t the same song he was humming earlier. Your ears strained to catch the words as your body forcibly relaxed against your will. You just felt so emotionally tired. It wasn’t anything specific Crowley or Aziraphale had done. You were just caught up in a strange emotional tornado due to the subject of singing. You used to sing on a fairly regular basis, and based on the comments people made, you knew that you were more than half decent. But over time, your ex, Alexander had worn down your desire to sing, making fun of you whenever you got a chance. He would say that you were singing too low, to high, or were too bad to be any good. You remember a conversation with him that went like this:

“Why have you been singing so often this week?” Alexander asked. You told him you were practicing because there was a quire club opening up at your university. He laughed as he said, “I wouldn’t worry about that.” you asked why, and he replied, “You are way too flat. They’ll never let you in, so don’t waste their time.”

He had made comments like that for months, and eventually you just… stopped. Now the very idea of singing made you cringe. You were so anxious about singing now that you were upset at yourself for letting Crowley catch you singing when you were in the shower. Haltingly, and in little stages, you told Aziraphale what had happened. His wings wrapped tighter around you, until you were in a cocoon of white. Your brain short circuited as he rubbed circles into your back and sung a hymn that was faintly familiar. “...abide with me; fast falls the evening tide…” He had quite a pleasant voice. “Aziraphale?” you began. He hummed in response. “I love you so much.” you whispered. He stayed silent for a few moments. “My dear, you are so precious to me.” was his reply. Your eyes fluttered closed, but just as you began to drift, he began to untangle himself from you, and you let out a small whine at the loss of contact. “Sorry, dearest, there are a few things I must attend to. Why don’t you stay on the couch and rest?” You shrugged and snuggled back down into the couch. A few minutes later, when you were on the edge of sleeping, you felt a blanket being draped over you. You murmured contentedly and fell into a deep doze. 

Your eyes blinked open sometime later. The shadows in the apartment had shifted a little, so you knew you had been out for at least half an hour. The blanket had been tucked in somewhat while you were unconscious.You could hear Aziraphale and Crowley discussing something quietly. You stretched, arching your back and letting out a little groan as your back popped. They both stopped talking and glanced over in your direction. Aziraphale was smiling, sadly, and Crowley was scowling. “Crowley and I have discussed what you told me earlier.” Crowley’s scowl deepened. You sat up slowly, draping the blanket over your back like a limp cape. “I see.” was the only thing you could think to say.

“What Alexander did to you was wrong,” Crowley started. “This is one of those times where Aziraphale and I are in agreement.” Crowley licked his teeth in a frustrated manner. “Zira and I are also in agreement about what you should do.” you opened your hands as if to receive a gift. “Just sing for yourself.” Crowley explained. You cocked your head to one side. “Isn’t that selfish?” you asked. “To not share a gift like that with people?” Crowley shrugged. “If you don’t want to perform in front of people, then don’t, but that isn’t what I mean. Creative productions, such as art, writing, singing, and acting, should only be done for yourself. Don’t expect validation because you will be unhappy if someone thinks you’ve done a poor job. So only sing for yourself. You should do it because you want to, and fuck what anyone else thinks.” Aziraphale muttered something about Crowley’s language, but there was a light of affection in his eyes, so you knew he didn’t really mean it. Crowley continued, “I am sorry that your ex made you feel that way. There aren’t many humans that deserve treatment like that. You certainly aren’t one of them.” Crowley looked away, clearing his throat.

Your eyes softened and you started to tear up a little. You knew it was a lot of effort for him to say something so sweet. His eyes snapped back over to yours. “Don’t look at me like that. And don’t expect me to say stuff like that often. You should know how good you are by now.” That was when Aziraphale cut in. “We all grow at our own pace, dear. It’s alright if it takes you longer to get where you want to be. We both love you very much, even if Crowley won’t say it.” Crowley growled and muttered things as Aziraphale pulled him into a kiss. God, they were cute together. You felt so lucky to have them in your lives. “Anyway, “ Aziraphale continued, “It is alright to ask for people to look at what you have done, but some people will try to take advantage of that to hurt you. Oh, how does that human phrase go? ‘Don’t let the bastards down’, I believe.” You snorted at Aziraphale’s bad language, and you all eventually got caught up in a different conversation about where to go for dinner. 

Perhaps one day you would perform for them, perhaps not. It was up to you (and no one else) about how your voice was used. But after having talked with Aziraphale and Crowley, you felt the anxious knot in your chest loosen a little. 

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all liked it, the next chapter will take a bit longer to do, so hold on for a bit. (I have no idea how long it will take, please be patient)  
> constructive criticism is good.


	3. July Kisses (SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A picnic in the park with Aziraphale and Crowley.
> 
> starts fluffy, gets angsty, ends fluffy. the perfect emotional sandwich. 
> 
> everyone is anxious yee haw

Chapter takes place 6 months after the first chapter.

It was the type of weather today that people wrote songs about, you were certain. It was a spectacular summer day, and the weather couldn’t be better. The sun shone through wispy clouds, and the trees practically hummed with good nature at the wind that gently flowed through olive and pear colored leaves. It was baking hot about a week ago, but some rain came and cooled the plants down while refreshing their color. Birds dove and bounded through the sky, and you gazed out of the window, appreciating every spot of nature you could see. You had to find a way to take advantage of this, somehow. You wondered whether Aziraphale and Crowley would object to having a picnic in some local park. It couldn’t hurt, right? You tore your gaze from the window and wandered over to where they were bickering on their oversized couch about some customer Aziraphale had in their bookshop today. You leaned against a wall and took in the sight of them arguing. A smile was playing at your lips. 

“Zira, all I'm saying is that you can’t have any more security measures without blocking me out as well, let alone-”

“She was the first of five customers today. _Five!_ It’s absurd. Strange opening hours, dim lighting, semi toxic smells, and they still come in droves. Something must be done.”

You let the sounds wash over you and hummed to yourself. There was no real bite in this well trod argument, no need to get involved. Crowley caught your eye as well as he could while still wearing his shades.

“Here comes our sweetheart. Let’s get their opinion on this.” Your face flushed at the pet name. Nonetheless, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “This is not something I am getting involved in, nor is it what I wanted to talk to you two about.” The change was immediate. Aziraphale sat up straighter, hands clasped in his lap, giving you a darling smile. Crowley leaned back, putting his feet in Zira’s lap cocking his head to one side and smirking. 

“I was wondering if you two wanted to go out for a picnic today. The weather may not hold out for long, but we should take the opportunity while it lasts. We could pack sandwiches, some soft drinks, oh! And some fruit that’s in season, like strawberries or peaches!” 

“That sounds delightful,” Aziraphale exclaimed. “Luckily for us, a picnic hamper seems to have spontaneously materialized in the kitchenette.” 

Crowley’s brows knit together, and he murmured something under his breath. “Something wrong dear?” Aziraphale asked. “No, nothing. It’s just that there may be a basket that materialized just before yours did. Hold on.” He focused his gaze towards where the kitchenette was. “Fixed it.” He said. You frowned and said, “You didn’t have to get rid of it, you know. There could have been more food for all of us.” Crowley snorted. “What sort of creature of hell do you take me for? I didn’t vanish it, just changed the contents.” 

“Well what’s in there now?” You asked. He grinned, canines showing in a predatory manner. “Alcohol, of course. I added some Chateau Cheval Blanc from 1943 for Zira, and pear cider for you.” That was one of your favorite drinks. You had a strong sweet tooth, after all. “Oh my dear,” Aziraphale gazed at Crowley with adoration as he stood from the couch. “You are such a delight to me.” Crowley’s cheeks flared up and he grumbled as he strode off to grab the picnic supplies. You bumped Aziraphale, pressing your shoulder against his. “He’s fun to rile up, isn’t he?” Aziraphale looked offended. “Dearheart, I am an angel. I do _not_ rile people up.” His eyes scanned over to where Crowley had just left, and you watched his eyes soften. “That being said, he is rather cute when he is flustered.” You nodded in agreement, and turned to face him fully. “He isn’t the only one, you know.” you murmured, and kissed him softly on the cheek. Aziraphale stared at you for a moment, before you laughed quietly to yourself and followed after Crowley. “Wait a minute!” Zira called out. “Dear, you can’t just kiss me and not expect _me_ to return the favor! Come back.” Your giggles rang through the apartment and down the stairs to where the Bentley was waiting. 

Twenty minutes and a chaotic drive later, all three of you were sitting comfortably on a checkered picnic blanket, in St. James's Park. You managed to find a mostly isolated part of the park, where there weren’t many other people around. All three of you stretched out on the blanket, lounging around. Crowley was smiling to himself. “D’you remember, Zira, when the Greeks used to recline back like this?” Aziraphale nodded in agreement while chewing into a smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich. “I don’t believe it was very good for them if they suffered from heartburn.” He said, primly. You choked on your sandwich. A few thumps on your back from Crowley later, things went back to normal. You sat out on the blanket, giggling to yourself, still coughing occasionally. “Why on Earth was that your first thought?” You asked Aziraphale. “Of all the years of knowledge and history under your belt and you discuss the ancient Greeks, founders of modern democracy, having heartburn.” You wheezed on the blanket. “I didn’t think it was that funny.” Aziraphale stated. “Medical treatments then weren’t nearly as good as they are now. The cures they had for such things were just awful.” He tutted and shook his head. You snorted and took another bite into your sandwich. One of the nice things about dining with supernatural creatures was that somehow, sandwiches never got soggy from too much lettuce, or tomato, or heaps of condiments, like the way you enjoyed them. Crowley pulled out some drinks and you partook of them gladly. 

Time passed in a comfortable manner, sometimes they would talk at length, other times contented silences stretched out for minutes at a time. You were happy to just sit there and watch them do your thing. However, over time there was something you noticed. Crowley was occasionally shifting uncomfortably. He would toss his hair back and roll his shoulders, or rub at his neck, or huddle into his jacket. You stared at Aziraphale, catching his attention, then flicked your eyes over to where Crowley continued to shuffle, then flicked your eyes back to Zira. you raised an eyebrow, silently asking if everything was alright. Aziraphale smiled sadly, nodded, and held up a finger, signaling you to wait. “I am terribly sorry to ask this of you, my dear, but would you mind letting Crowley and I have a little chat in private?” You nodded, smiled tightly, rose to your knees, and began walking over to where some interesting Holly Blue butterflies were nesting on bushes. You pretended to inspect them, while attempting to keep an ear out on what they were talking about. It didn’t work. You knew that they could miracle a space into being soundproof. You knew you shouldn’t be trying to spy on them, and you also knew that they had a long history since, well, The Beginning. Still, sometimes a topic of conversation would come up that only they could discuss, and you tried to not have any hard feelings about it. You were very new to being courted by both of them.

It had been about six months since you had met Aziraphale, and it took another three months after your initial meeting for Crowley to warm up to you and start your strange relationship. But by the gates of heaven and hell, did you want to help them however you could. You knew they both suffered from a couple of bad experiences in the past, and you saw the beauty in which they danced around each other, and you admired the way they had begun to orbit around you, and though the relationship the three of you shared was new, you were beginning to realize the mountains and valleys you would travel through to keep them happy. You squished your arms around yourself, in a kind of defensive hug. You attempted to push away your feelings as Aziraphale called you back over five minutes later. 

You kept a smile plastered on your face as he began to speak when you were within earshot. “Sorry about that again dearest. Crowley has something he wants to ask you.” You turned to Crowley expectantly. He held up a hand to Aziraphale. “Let me tell them the issue in my own way, angel.” He cleared his throat. You began to sit down on the blanket, but Crowley stopped you with the same hand. “I’m not sure you want to sit down just yet.” That made your eyebrows shoot up. Crowley continued, “I’m not always comfortable in my own skin.” That was surprising. “Really?” you asked. “You always seem so confident.” He grimaced, and his tongue flicked out in a strange manner. “That’s not quite what I mean. Y’see…” he trailed off, not continuing. He sighed, muttered a few curses under his breath, and turned to face you better. “I want to show you something, but you need to promise me you won’t scream, or draw attention to it, or panic. Can you promise me that?” You nodded fervently. He stared you down through his shades, though you didn’t know how he accomplished that. 

“I’m serious here. Aziraphale and I don’t want to keep secrets from you, but sometimes it’s necessary. What I am about to trust you with not many other humans have knowledge of. Y’see, there’s a reason I don’t take off my shades.” You had wondered, of course. It was a barrier between the two of you, and it made him a killer poker player when he wanted to be. You semi squatted down near the blanket. With a hand trying very hard to not tremble, Crowley slowly took off his shades. You stared deeply into his snake eyes. They were the color of honeyed gold with black slits where his pupils were. His pupils were thin, and as you stared at him in silence, they began to contract and grow thinner. The silence stretched and the tension grew thick. “Well,” you said at last, “I don’t know whether to compliment you on your eyes or crack a joke.” Crowley let out a whine, and you watched his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. “You hate them.” he managed at last. “Not at all,” You replied. “They’re absolutely gorgeous. They remind me of yellow ochre sunsets that I painted once. They make me think of the beauty of nature and a galaxy called Centaurus that I learned about in a space documentary.” At these words, his eyes shut. He shook his head and put his hands over his face. A few moments passed, then unexpectedly, he looked up at you, serpentine pupils dilated. He grinned roguishly and said, “I’m glad you’ve joined the ranks of people who recognize how handsome I am.” Well that was something of a mood killer. You snorted and stretched out on the blanket, taking a sip of pear cider. 

“I didn’t say you were handsome, just that your eyes were.” he laughed darkly. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, sunshine. That’s proof enough.” Flames rose on your cheeks, scorching your face. “Let’s change the subject. Is there anything else I need to know about this, or shall we continue on a different line of conversation?” He sighed, smile slipping away. “I can also change into a snake. It’s one of the reasons you saw me shifting around so much earlier. There are some days where I am more comfortable in my snake form than in this human one.”

“Can you change whenever you want?”

“Of course, but, I wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with me making that change.”

You smiled to yourself. “Does me showering you with compliments help?”

His eyes softened, a lovely smile on his lips. “More than you can imagine. Hold on.”

And before your very eyes, his legs became one, his body dropped, twisted, curled. His jaw shrunk back and a forked tongue hissed out between his now non existent lips. He coiled and uncoiled for a few moments, stretching his body out. Then, he turned to Aziraphale and hissed something. You glanced between him and Crowley. “I didn’t catch that.” you confessed. Aziraphale chuckled. “It’s alright, I’ll translate. He thanked you, and is now asking if he can sunbathe on you.” You didn’t see any problem with that, and you told Crowley so. He hissed again, and as you laid back, you felt the weight of the wily serpent travel up your legs and settle comfortably on your stomach. The strange mix of the heat of the sun and the coldness of Crowley’s snake form was oddly relaxing, and before you knew it, you were nodding off in the sun. Before you did, you had the odd sense of being watched. Your eyes blinked open, and you saw Aziraphale sitting near you, looking at you with an odd expression. Your eyes narrowed against the sunlight, trying to gauge him more clearly. 

He was smiling, the skin near his eyes crinkling in a friendly way. But there was some way he was looking at you. It wasn’t his usual bright friendliness, but it was something softer, deeper. He was looking at you the way he sometimes looked at Crowley when Crowley wasn’t looking. There was something so heartbreaking about it that you closed your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see him. “Please don’t look at me like that, angel.” you said. You could feel a frown slipping into his voice as he asked, “Look at you like what, dearest?” You gestured vaguely at the air with one hand. “With all the affection. You’re looking at me as if I'm something… precious. Worth knowing, worth loving, I can’t stand it.”

“Oh, Dearheart,” He sighed. He hummed under his breath while trying to search for the right words. Crowley, while still in snake form, raised his head from your chest to meet yours and flicked his tongue, just letting the tip of it touch your chin. A snake kiss. Your eyes flicked open again, staring down into Crowley’s golden eyes. Aziraphale cleared his throat, finding the right words to say at last. “I’m sorry that you were hurt enough to think you don’t deserve kind words and soft touches. It breaks my heart when humans treat each other like that. I want- I hope that Crowley and I will eventually be able to make up the difference, in time.” Your eyes were suspiciously wet. “As a matter of fact,” Aziraphale exclaimed, clapping his hands together, “Let’s start making up the difference now!” He plopped beside you suddenly, smiling gently. You sucked in a hesitant breath and held it. What was his next move going to be? Gently, as if afraid of breaking you, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Your face flushed once more, and you squirmed with embarrassment. You tried to sink behind Crowley’s snake form, but Aziraphale’s steady hand and Crowley’s weight prevented you from shielding your face.

“There’s no need to hide from me, my dear. You look positively precious like this. I wouldn’t want to change anything about you.” God, he was sweet. God, did you want the ground to swallow you up. You gazed up at him, throat tight with emotion, and said. “The feeling’s mutual. As soon as I can find the right words, I'll tell you exactly how much you mean to me.” he laughed. “Take as much time as you need.” That was how the day was spent until the sun went down. Crowley was in snake form, lying on top of you, the three of you would exchange compliments and kisses, with Aziraphale acting as translator for Crowley’s hissing. You couldn’t think of a better way to spend a hot July day. And when you all eventually packed up and left, you noticed the weird tan lines from where Crowley was lying. Without anyone saying a word, they were miracled away, leaving your skin as pale as it was when you set out on the picnic. Well, it would just mean you would have to catch a tan with them in the park another time, which didn’t seem so bad when you put it that way.

End


	4. The Moments Between: Section One (SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Aziraphale helps you practice self care: Specifically good hygiene and getting enough rest. yee haw. Please read the chapter notes at the end, they contain important details on the path of the story and update schedule.

The Moments Between: Part One

Aziraphale was busily humming as he cleaned your shared flat. As you sluggishly got ready for the day in the bathroom, you could hear him fluffing pillows with hand stitched designs and bustling about. You asked him once, why he didn’t just miracle the place clean. He said that only by walking around could he make sure that every spare inch was clean of dust. You asked why after a long day of cleaning, he didn’t just miracle some sort of anti-dust protection over the whole place. He spluttered and said something about liking to stretch his legs out as he cleaned. At that point, you had let the issue drop. It was early morning, and you had just freshly stepped out of the shower. You were currently working on your hair. Aziraphale knocked on the door gently. “May I come in, dearest?” You sighed, and gave permission for him to enter. You almost didn’t want him to see your morning routine today. A few of your items had mysteriously vanished from the bathroom. Your comb and brush had both gone missing, so you had to use… a more interesting implement. The door opened, Aziraphale took one look at you, and began to giggle. “Oh, oh my dear, what _are_ you doing?” Your face heated up. “Brushing my hair, angel. What does it look like?” 

“With a fork?” 

You bit your bottom lip in annoyance. “All my hair stuff besides the shampoo has vanished. It’s not even conditioned, and... “ You pulled at a chunk of hair with it, wincing as you did so. Aziraphale cringed in sympathy. “...and it’s the only thing I could use on short notice.” 

“Why didn’t you just ask me to miracle you a new hairbrush?” 

“You were busy!” you protested. 

“There’s being too busy for small talk, and then there’s being too busy to help you, which I am not.” 

You attempted to create a path through the tangles, but due to lack of conditioner, they were worse than normal. Not only that, but you couldn’t find a single plastic fork in the whole place, so you were forced to use a metal one. It really irritated your scalp. You snarled something under your breath, and after disengaging the fork with a particularly stubborn knot, you smacked the fork against the bathroom counter in frustration. Aziraphale clicked his fingers, and in his hands was a cream colored hairbrush. He handed it over to you and you began attacking your hair like it was an opposing army. You pulled and yanked without mercy. Aziraphale cringed and took hold of your wrist. The contact took you by surprise. You had been touched by him before, obviously. Plenty of hugs were exchanged, passing drink containers back and forth, cheek and forehead kisses, but this felt different. It felt… stern. His eyes locked with yours, and to your alarm, his eyes were sad. He saw the flicker of fear, and his eyes melted away into their typical gentleness. “Dearheart, I do wish you would learn to be more gentle with yourself.” You shrugged your shoulders, not saying anything. “If you will allow me,” he said, eyes sparkling with visible hope. “I can show you a gentler way of brushing your hair.”

“By letting someone else do it?” 

“Only with your permission, of course.” 

You agreed without thinking much about it. 

He grabbed a stool from next to the sink and you sat down on it. You did your best to not slump to one side, or slouch, or try and make yourself smaller in any way. He took the hairbrush and started at the bottom, holding your hair just above where he was combing it, so your hair didn’t hurt as much when he caught a snag. Eventually, he separated the hair into horizontal sections and detangled each segment one at a time. You hadn’t really let anyone comb your hair before. The effect was surprisingly soothing, and your mind began to wander. Your eyes drifted closed as Aziraphale continued his ministrations. You found yourself wondering why he wanted to take care of you. You knew that despite his long years of service in creating miracles, he had never really interacted with one human for a long period of time. Though he was always polite and kind, you were certain that he hadn’t really been close to anyone besides Crowley. But he was so soft with you in the most unexpected ways. You felt yourself relaxing more and more under the brush, and Aziraphale’s gentle hands. Your senses dropped off one by one, until… 

THUMP! 

Your eyes opened to meet with the tiled floor of the bathroom. Aziraphale gasped, and immediately reached down to lift you up.

“Srry ‘bout tha.” you said, muffled because your face was pressed against the floor. “Musta drifted off or something.” you continued as Aziraphale helped you to your feet. 

“That’s quite alright, dear. You aren’t hurt?” You gingerly touched a small cut in your forehead where you had hit it on the floor. “I can walk it off.” You replied. He scoffed. “Humans and their inability to accept help. Honestly!” he escorted you to your shared bedroom and sat you down on the super king bed you, Aziraphale, and Crowley shared. He brushed his finger lightly over the cut. As he did so, you could feel your skin heal itself, the cut disappearing. You shivered at the touch, you could feel the energy of the miracle working its way through your body. The stern look was back in his eyes again, but this time you didn’t shy away from it. “You didn’t get enough sleep last night, did you dear?” You shrugged, embarrassed, and resisting the temptation to rub at your eyes. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, before gently taking you in his arms. He carried you bridal style, making sure not to hit your head or feet on any of the knick knacks that were dotted about the room, then unceremoniously let go and dropped you onto the sheets. You landed with a soft whoomp, the covers lifting a little before settling back down. He stood there with his hands on his hips, looking more like a brooding mother than an angel. “My dear, I request formal consent to put you to bed.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?” 

“I will put you under the covers. I will play with your hair and massage your scalp, and rub your back. Ideally, you will fall asleep in my arms. You will wake up well rested, then we will have an early lunch at The Ritz.”

“Nothing else?” You asked.

“Unless you ask for it.”

You agreed, and with a click of his fingers you were suddenly in cotton pajamas and under the blankets. He shuffled on to the bed and joined you. You stared up at him, then you slid over and snuggled him. In response, he wrapped his arms around you. You stayed there for a long time. He smelled like clean laundry and freshly baked bread. He began to rub circles into your back, humming softly. 

“Zrhphle?” You mumbled, the edges of sleep depending on you quickly. 

“Yes, dear?” 

“Love y’h.”

He didn’t say it back, but there wasn’t a need for him to. You just wanted to tell him, and make sure he knew. The last thing you remember before drifting off was the feeling of his hands rubbing circles into your back and the words, “You will wake, having had a lovely dream about whatever you like best.” 

And what a lovely dream it was. 

You ran through the long grass, without fear, without pain. It tickled your feet, and you could feel the morning dew damp your legs. Sunlight shot through the trees, turning the air a kind of golden yellow. The edge of a cliff approached quickly, and you sped up, legs pumping like pistons. Your arms extended as you leapt forward, feet leaving the ground. You fell and fell, but there was no anxiety or panic. The wind caught you, and instead of hitting the ground you began to soar. Your body twisted and spun in the air, and you laughed uproariously. The hair on your arms began to rise as you felt a power lifting you further. You flew through the English countryside, emerald green glades passing you. You did a few loops through the air before trying to speed up. There was a snap of fingers and you felt the presence of the people you loved on either side. Aziraphale was to your right, snowy wings fully extended, his arms by his sides, letting his wings do most of the work. Crowley was to your left, casually gliding with his black onyx wings also extended. They had no trouble keeping up with you. You didn’t have any wings, but you flew next to them without issue. Eventually, the land disappeared, and the ocean was before you. You dove and twisted to one side, letting your hand dip into the freezing water. Exhilaration exploded through your body at all these sensations. Crowley called out something wordless, grabbing your attention. He pointed up at a bank of clouds, which the three of you soared to. There wasn’t anyone there playing harps or laying about, which made you happy. You each settled down among the cloud banks. You spent the rest of your dream watching the world pass you by, enjoying the scenery and ambient company of your lovers. 

Your eyes fluttered open a few hours later, blinking up at Aziraphale. He stared at you, eyes and mouth soft and smiling. Both of you leaned in to press a chaste kiss on each others lips. You both sat in silence for a few minutes, Aziraphale enjoying your company, you trying to etch every moment of the dream into your memory. 

Eventually, you slapped the sheets with your hand a few times, and said, “Right! Lunch?”

And off the two of you went. 

End. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took longer than expected lol  
> So I figured out what the title of my story means. Bookstores refers to Aziraphale, and the Bentley refers to Crowley, obviously. Everything Between though? That means chapters that will focus exclusively on one of them and the development of their relationship. As you can see by the chapter name, this is section one. This one focuses on just Aziraphale, the next will focus on just Crowley, and the pattern will continue like that. All other chapters will focus on both of them. 
> 
> BTW this chapter is based on a true story. Someone stole both my comb and my hairbrush, and a fork was the only thing I could use on short notice. I showered late at night, and the only other bathroom that I knew had combs in it would require me to go through my roomates room while they were asleep. They are a light sleeper, and it wouldn't have ended well.  
> >:(
> 
> Next chapter should be up in 5-7 days.


	5. Spill The (coffee) Beans (SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get to know Aziraphale and Crowley a little better, as they treat you to coffee, and you meet a strange boy named Adam Young. Miracles and mysteries abound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, the writer of this fic is not from the country/culture that the work takes place in. we really need a tag that lets people know that. if it exists, i haven't found it yet. also i've tried my hardest to be accurate with placement in things in Soho. The coffee shop mentioned in this chapter, Bearded Barista, I have no idea if it's any good, but it had a really convenient location with everything else in the story so *shrugs*

Chapter 4: Spill The (coffee) Beans

(Takes place two weeks after chapter one)

When you woke up that morning, it felt like someone had fused your spine together with hot iron. You were still sleeping in your car after your run in with your ex, Alexander. You used to share an apartment together, but you had left after he turned violent. He stalked you through Soho, London, and you had accidentally ended up in the care of a stranger who ran a bookshop. His name was Aziraphale. Several unexplainable things had happened while you were in his shop, and in the end he made the decision to protected you from harm. You were very grateful for that, of course. But that didn’t mean you were happy about being carbound while you searched for a new apartment. Though it was safe, there really wasn't enough room to make your back completely flat. Each day you woke up with a deeper ache in your muscles, your back popping horribly whenever you sat up in the morning. Even now as you shifted, it sounded like someone had put chicken bones in a food processor and was having fun with the pulse setting. Your mother said there wasn’t room in her house right now to host you, but you weren’t sure whether or not she was telling the truth. You debated calling her and begging for a place on her floor or the front porch, as long as it was flat enough to stretch out on. 

Now that you were thinking about it, if you were going to call your mom, then you should at least give yourself mercy and get some coffee first, and maybe use the internet to search for a place to live while you were at it. You covered up your windows, slid into more acceptable clothing than pajamas, and headed out to the nearest place that served coffee. 

Unfortunately, the nearest place to your car was the Starbucks on Wardour Street. You grit your teeth together in frustration. Your ex worked morning shifts there sometimes, and you sure as hell didn’t want to deal with him now. You couldn’t tell from the small door you were peering into whether or not your ex was behind the counter, and as you stood there the crowds milled about, and people tutted at you standing stock still in the middle of their path. You knew you couldn’t stay here for long. You were holding your laptop in your hand, anyone with criminal intent could snatch it and dash off before your brain could catch up to what was happening. You sighed, and began to walk in, when someone slammed right into you, causing you to drop your laptop with a clatter. 

“Oh! Oh I’m dreadfully sorry, I- wait! I know you.” You glanced up from the laptop to the gentleman who you had stumbled into. 

“Aziraphale? Is that you?” You asked. Though you weren’t sure who else it could be, giving his unique fashion sense. At his shoulder appeared Crowley, with a scowl etched into his face. Aziraphale’s nervous smile dropped, worry twisting his expression. “Quickly, you must get away from this place. The man who was stalking you last night is here.” A surge of fear zinged through you, and you let Aziraphale take you by the shoulder and lead you away. Crowley drifted behind as the two of you fell into step together. “W-wait!” you said, trying to twist around. “My laptop is-” Crowley held the laptop in his raised hand, shaking it a little for emphasis. “Oh, alright then.” A few paces away, he stopped pushing at your back and let you turn to face him. “Aziraphale, I thought you liked… really high quality foods.” His smile returned because you remembered that about him. “So why would you be in a Starbucks of all places? There have to be better shops nearby if you want a caffeine fix.” He clasped his hands behind his back as he explained. “You see, you are right about me not liking Starbucks.” His nose wrinkled at the words, which you thought was pretty cute. “We were simply there to get Crowley his sugar fix.” you turned around to see Crowley slurping at a vanilla bean frappuccino of all things. You hadn’t seen it earlier, being too distracted. Aziraphale continued to talk, now in a hushed whisper. “He doesn’t like to admit it, but he prefers sweet drinks rather than bitter. Sometimes he orders something he doesn’t like, just to keep up appearances of being harder than he actually is.”

“Oi, Angel! Don’t go ‘round telling people that.” Crowley turned to you. “It’s not true at all.”

Aziraphale replied, “So you wouldn’t mind tossing your cup away then?” 

Crowley’s scowl deepened and he clasped his drink closer to his chest. 

“So, now what?” you asked. “I still need some coffee, before I tackle my ‘to do’ list.”

“Ah, well,” Aziraphale replied. “There’s a lovely coffee shop just down the road. It’s called Bearded Barista. Wonderful place, not a lot of room, but I believe a table has just opened up.”

Crowley snorted into his drink, and you asked Aziraphale to lead the way.

The three of you ended up in close quarters with each other. You cautiously took a sip of a light roast coffee with caramel syrup and a splash of milk swirled in. You blinked at the cup, and took a longer sip, fully enjoying the sweet and bitter tastes mingling together. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let out a quiet moan at the satisfaction of a delicious cup. You were sorely tempted to rock your body back and forth with delight, but you restrained yourself. You cleared your throat and opened your eyes to see Aziraphale and Crowley staring at each other, then back at you. You laughed awkwardly, sinking down a little in to your chair. “Sorry about that, It’s just… a _really_ good cup of coffee.” They both shrugged, and the conversation went at a steady pace. 

Aziraphale was facing the outer window that lead to the street, and he murmured a quick, “Oh dear.” Crowley turned to face him, raising a single eyebrow. “There’s something that needs attending to outside, I’ll be back in a tick.” Aziraphale explained. It wouldn’t be correct to say that he dashed out the door, but he certainly moved faster than you expected. Your eyes followed him as he went through the door and into the street, eventually becoming lost to view. You turned to Crowley, and asked, “What was that about?” He shrugged, relaxing back into his seat. “Doesn’t matter, he’ll handle it. 'sides, I want to talk to you.” You gestured for him to talk, and he did. “I dunno what you think you’re playing at, but it isn’t going to work.” 

That was unexpected.

He continued, “Pretending like you’re some sort of wounded creature, in need of help, presenting him with a gift. I can see what you are trying to do, and it won’t happen.” Now you were just confused. “What on earth are you talking about?” You asked. He continued, as if you hadn’t said anything. “Happily consuming food, giving him a show. Every human he meets tries to get on his good side, not that he really has a bad one. But then there are those like you. _You!_ ” he hissed with sudden venom. “I found him first. Back off!” Understanding dawned, and as it did, you found your back straightening, shoulders tensing, and face going red with anger. 

“Crowley,” You growled. “I am many things. I have lied, and stolen, been prideful and envious. I have done a hundred things I am not proud of. But one thing I am not,” you said, gritting your teeth and spitting the words at him, “Is a _cheater_! I would never interfere with the relationship the two of you have. The fact that you would even suggest I am…” you trailed off, heart hammering loudly. Your hands were tight enough on the coffee cup that it was starting to creak, your knuckles white with anger. “The reason I went in to his bookshop that night was because my ex, Alexander was after me. I don’t know what he was going to do, but we had a fight, and I stormed out. It didn’t look like he was coming to apologize. I needed somewhere to be safe, and it was a complete coincidence that I chose Aziraphale’s bookshop.”

Crowley stayed silent, staring at you. You hadn’t told Aziraphale who exactly it was stalking you through Soho. It didn’t seem important at the time. You ran a hand through your hair in frustration. “As for the lemon curd, I grew up in a family where if someone does you a favor, you pay it back with a gift, so you’re even. No one walks away owing the other person something. Aziraphale, at the minimum, protected me from bodily harm. It was the least I could do, literally, because I’m down on my luck, and strapped for cash. The fact that you mistook that for romantic intent, pisses me off.”

He still said nothing, so you continued. “See this leather jacket I'm wearing? My brother got it for me for my birthday. Alexander mistook it as a declaration of love from someone. He threw things, called me names, and so I left. He owns the apartment, and I’ve been stuck sleeping in my car for the past two weeks. I’ve practically been hobbling all over the place from back pain.” The wind was suddenly taken out of you, emotions crashing down on you all at once. 

Crowley said nothing for a few moments, cleared his throat uncomfortably, and asked, “What do you mean, interfere with the relationship? What relationship?” You put your head in your hands. “Don’t be _stupid_. You and Aziraphale clearly love each other. The way you two talk to each other, the pet names you use with each other, the teasing… hell, I remember the way he talked about you when I was in his shop. You’d have to be blind to not see it.” He swallowed, looking down at his hands. Aziraphale roamed back in to the shop, sitting comfortably next to Crowley. “Aziraphale,” you began. “Is the coast clear?” as soon as he gave the affirmative, you stood up, drained your cup, and said, “Thanks for the coffee, gentlemen. I have to go turn in a few job applications. Please excuse me.” You stomped off to your car. 

A brisk walk later, you were back at your car, starting to cool down from the confrontation. Your shoulders were still holding a lot of tension and your rolled them in an attempt to get rid of the pain. But suddenly, the pain was just… gone. There was a strange heat in your spine that wasn’t the shooting pain you had been experiencing. It spread through the muscles in your back, and your lungs opened up as you straightened and let your shoulders fall. Your muscles relaxed and unfurled, for lack of a better term. You clamped your mouth shut, trying to not let out a relieved whimper while in public. Holy crap that felt good. You leaned against your car, experimentally twisting this way and that. No pinching, no soreness, no hint that you had been treating your back like a pretzel or croissant. How on earth did that happen? Your back was completely fine, as if the past two weeks hadn’t even happened. You shook your head, wanting to get back to the task at hand. You could worry about this later. 

You got in to your car and drove to various places, dropping off the job applications and picking up new ones, but your mind was very far away. Time flew, and before you knew it, you had pretty much applied for every open job that was within a forty five minute drive. All that was left to do was wait, and you had more time on your hands than you knew what to do with. It was one of the small upsides of being unemployed and without a house. The world was practically yours. You might have kept it that way if you weren’t thinking about diving into public fountains to scrape enough money together for your next meal. Most of the last couple of paychecks you had received had gone straight to your ex, a decision you were now kicking yourself for. You quit your last job at Holland & Barrett about three months before you left him. You shook your head to clear your thoughts, and drove to Charing Cross Library, in hopes of using their wifi and maybe catch up on some reading.

Wait, the laptop! Did Crowley still have it? You had forgotten to take it back once you had been herded to the other coffee shop. You wanted to howl in frustration. Was it worth it to try and track them down? That laptop had a lot of personal information on it, and it had been a few hours since you had stormed out of the coffee shop. They could be anywhere by now! What were you going to do? Your eyes were leaking, and you shut them, balling your fists into your hair. You briefly debated smashing your head into the steering wheel repeatedly, but you decided it wouldn’t help. It had just been a rough couple of weeks. From your ex, to the near run in with him at Starbucks, to Crowley making some really terrible insinuations, filling out job applications, to the money being low in your account, it felt like the past week had been especially rough on you. At least your back was feeling mysteriously better. Your hands were now clenched on the steering wheel, in the parking lot of the library. You would not let your tears fall, you would not. You couldn’t let people see your emotions. Suddenly, there was a knock on the window. You startled, staring into the eyes of a young man with curly brown hair. His face was very young, he couldn’t be older than fourteen. His eyes were crystalline blue, and he was somewhat lanky. You rolled down the window, wondering what he wanted. 

“Scuse me, are you crying?” You laughed at his obvious question. “Nah, this is just easier than finding a public water fountain.” He cocked his head to one side, and said, “Only, I think you should stop crying, is all.” You stopped. It was as if the tears had been put back into your eyes and your face was no longer wet. “How did you do that?” You asked. He shrugged, easygoing, and said, “I can do lots of things.” 

“You... aren’t the only one who can do things I don’t understand.” You confessed hesitantly. His lips twitched. “London is full of strange beings, always has been.” He stretched out his hand. “I’m Adam. Adam Young.” You grasped it warmly. “Hello Adam, my name is ██████ , It’s nice to meet you.” You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “I encountered some strange people, who have done things I can’t explain.” You told him about the door in the bookshop that disappeared then reappeared, the laptop which had gone missing several times, and your back pain which had mysteriously vanished. He smiled, eyes sparkling. “Sounds like you’ve had a run in with Crowley and Aziraphale.” you stared at him. So many questions filled your mind, and they all started to tumble out at once. “Who are they? Are they safe to be around? Why are they in London? How do you know about them?” He held up a hand, and you stopped babbling. “I dunno how long you’ve known them, or if they’re wanting to know you better, so let’s just say they have the world’s best interests at heart.” You deflated, resting your neck against your head rest. “I have to go now, but don’t feel so bad, things are starting to look up for you.” he said, looking down at your passenger seat. Your eyes followed his gaze down, and your laptop was there, unscuffed, undamaged, and cleaner than it was this morning. You froze, and by the time you had started breathing normally again, Adam was gone. You stared blankly at a spot out of your windshield, and then your phone rang, startling you out of your numbness. You decided to let the other person speak first.

“Ah, hello.” A familiar soft southern england voice greeted. 

“Aziraphale, it’s good to hear from you.” you said.

There was a murmuring voice near Aziraphale, which you had trouble picking up on. “Crowley wants me to apologize on his behalf for his rude behavior, and invite you out to lunch.” You thought you heard Crowley say faintly, “I don’t apologize for anything, angel, you know that.” 

You replied, “Normally I wouldn’t turn down meeting up for food, but I’m too strapped for money at the moment.” This was true, you were down to your last tenner. 

“There’s no need for that, my dear. It will be our treat.” Your heart swelled at the use of that pet name. “Alright, where shall we meet?” He told you, and you were just about to hang up when a thought occurred to you. “Hold on, how did you get my number?” You didn’t give it to them, you were certain. There was another muttering over the line, and Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Crowley wants me to lie to you and say that we dialed every number sequentially until we found yours,” You snorted into the phone. “But the truth is, ah, I might have spooked your ex into giving it to me when I spotted him outside Bearded Barista looking for you. I hope I haven’t crossed a line.” You were smiling, and Aziraphale could hear it in your voice. “Don’t worry about it, that probably means I owe you another one.” Aziraphale chuckled indulgently. “Not at all, dear. See you soon?” 

“One last thing, my back seems to have mysteriously healed itself to perfect condition. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” 

“I’m sorry my dear, the line seems to be breaking up. I’m going through a tunnel.” He then made several staticky noises with his mouth, and hung up on you. You laughed, put your car into drive, and sped off to meet with these odd people. You weren’t sure what your future held with them, but you knew the next few hours would be entertaining, at least.

End. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yee haw i'm pumping out these chapters. i'm starting to run low on ideas though so updates might become more sporadic.  
> Ideally the next chapter will be posted in about 5-7 days. remember, i am looking to improve so constructive criticism is welcome. also someone needs to tell me if i'm formatting these chapters right. Besides learning in school that a paragraph is between 5-8 sentences, I really don't know what i'm doing. (also I break that rule a lot lololol) I don't know what the smoothest way to format it is for easiest reading. any advice would be appreciated.


	6. T is for Trauma (SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has a nightmare, and you and Aziraphale try your best to bring him some comfort. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: Mentions of blood, Gore, Nightmares, Anxiety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boi this took longer than I wanted. its also shorter than I wanted it to be >:( 
> 
> Fluff inbound, but angst comes first. you know how it is.

You woke with a start, and immediately knew something was _wrong_. The energies of Aziraphale and Crowley’s apartment had shifted dramatically. It was something you had learned to pick up on a few weeks after you had moved in. Though they were now on their own side after the events of Armageddidn’t, they still had ethereal and occult energies running through them that supported their bodies. Depending on who was in the apartment, and for how long, these energies would subtly shift one way or another. You knew you didn’t prefer one type of energy over another, in the same way you wouldn’t be able to answer if asked whether Aziraphale or Crowley was your favorite. But now, something had changed. There was something off, in the walls, in the way the sheets felt under your fingers. The room felt too hot and too cold at the same time, making you feel feverish. You sat up in bed, and the world began to spin. You doubled over, feeling sick to your stomach. The walls radiated with anxious energy that wasn’t your own.

You took a deep breath, then stumbled out of bed as best you could. The world around you was warping, distorting in strange ways. You leaned on the walls for support as you shuffled along, trying to find your boyfriends. They were in the kitchen, in their true forms. You stood there in horror, eyes burning as you looked, but you were also unable to look away. Aziraphale, normally soft and human looking, now consisted of many gold bands intersecting each other, with several dozen eyes on each band, scanning in every possible direction. In the very center of these rings, there was something vaguely human shaped, that also distorted and shifted. Looking like a child one moment, and an old man the next, with every possible mutation in between. There were miniscule patches of darkness between these bands, and it made the light dim somewhat as the bands would brush by. 

Crowley’s form, on the other hand, almost entirely consisted of void. There was a long column of black energy, from which onyx feathers would fall to the floor, then disintegrate. His form stretched from floor to ceiling, creating black vortexes where his presence made contact with physical space. Spiraled around its form were several lines of pointed snake fangs. As you peered closer, you could see little pinpricks of white light that marred the darkness, making the void imperfect.

Your eyes took all of this information in, and promptly your brain stopped working. You swayed, the world appearing to buck back and forth. Body collapsing, the wind was knocked out of you.

It was horrible, and it was beautiful. You wanted it to stop. You wanted to gaze at it forever. Your brain began to crack under the strain of what you were seeing. Your face was wet, not with tears, but because your nose was bleeding. You sprawled out on the floor, and your eyes unfocused, shielding you from the worst of it. You mumbled something, tongue heavy. Suddenly, you could feel their sets of eyes focus on you. Your noises must have alerted them. You wanted to scramble out of the room, and began pawing at the floor in a vain attempt to get away. There were some things that just weren’t meant to be Seen. On a conscious level, you could match up their energy signals to their forms in your head, and knew they were your friends. But a mindless, animalistic fear filled you and you fought against instincts that had been hardwired in since the dawn of humanity. You didn’t want their attention on you, you wanted to run, and put as much distance between you and them as possible. 

“Oh dear!” The wheel of light said. It sounded like Aziraphale was in some kind of echo chamber. His voice was magnified by a factor of ten, and your teeth vibrated with the intensity of it. The voice was strong enough that you stopped moving. “Do not be afraid, dearheart.” he continued. “You’ve caught us at a rather bad time, i’m afraid.” You quickly explained how you felt the energy of the apartment change, and didn’t know why. Your nose had stopped bleeding, at least. Aziraphale explained. “Crowley’s had a nightmare. He won’t tell me what it was about, but he slipped into his true form, so it must have been an absolute whopper. The only way to comfort him seemed to be slipping in to my true form as well.”

“Oh. Should I leave you to it, then?” Before Aziraphale could reply, the void cloud had condensed, shrinking and shifting, until Crowley stood there once more. His face was gaunt, eyes closer to copper than their usual gold. Tears were streaming down his face. His breathing quickened as he stared you down, then he sobbed and lurched forward, tugging you into his arms. There was a fumble, and you both ended up on the floor. You ended up in a position where he rested his head in your lap. You began to rub circles into his back without thinking about it, attempting to think of comforting things to say. His crying had slowed down, but he was shaking terribly.

You readjusted his position, put his head on to your chest, and rocked him back and forth in a gentle motion. Meanwhile, Aziraphale adjusted his form, growing and shrinking parts of himself until he looked once more like the bookshop owner you had grown to love. You didn’t make eye contact, choosing instead to stare at an imaginary spot on the floor. Your eyes ached, still reeling from what you had seen. There was dried blood on your pajamas from when your nose was bleeding. You ignored this, because someone who you loved more than yourself was in pain. It was that simple. Aziraphale grunted as he sat down next to you, wrapping one arm around you, another arm reaching out to grasp Crowley’s hand. Crowley sat there for a few minutes, not blinking, not bothering to breathe like a human would. You continued to rock him gently, not knowing what else to do. 

Eventually, he cleared his throat, pushing you away gently, taking his hand out of Aziraphale’s. “Do you want to talk about it?” You asked. He shook his head. “M’ fine.” You grimaced, not sure whether or not to push the issue. Luckily, Aziraphale pushed for you.

“Dear boy, what _are_ you talking about? This,” he said, gesturing to Crowley up and down, “Is not fine. Look at the state you’re in. I… I need to make some tea.” Without another word, Aziraphale pushed himself up and bustled off to the far side of the kitchen. Crowley watched him go, with pain in his eyes.

You debated whether or not to follow Aziraphale, wanting to tell him that leaving someone in this state wasn’t a good idea. But if you followed after him, then Crowley would be on his own, and with the way he was wrapping himself around you, you didn’t think he would take it too well. You brushed his hair out of his eyes, which were stuck there because of how much he had been sweating. Aziraphale clattered around the kitchen, and the sound of clinking ceramic filled the air. You were exhausted. It was three in the morning, and seeing what you had was weighing you down. “Crowley, I think I need to lie down for a moment. I’m not going anywhere, you can be big spoon or little spoon, whichever you like, or we don’t have to touch if you don’t want to. But right now, I really need to rest my head.” You reclined back onto the hard tile, letting your spine and neck readjust. Crowley blinked tears out of his eyes once in a while, occasionally reaching out to make sure you were still there. The water for the tea was poured, and the sound filled you with a kind of peace. 

When Crowley and Aziraphale were in their true forms they brightened everything and cast shadows in strange directions. Now that they had returned to the forms you had seen them most often in, the light had winked out. Your eyes hadn’t quite adjusted yet, so the whole room looked pitch black. It was out of this darkness that Crowley spoke. 

“I dreamed that Armageddon went off without a hitch.” You winced. “Adam didn’t choose humanity. The seas ran red, stars fell, and war began. The angels and demons found out about us, and we didn’t have time to swap bodies.” He stared off into space, seeing something that wasn’t there. “Not that it mattered. Instead of using Hellfire or Holy Water, they…” He shuddered. “ _They pit us against each other_. Neither of us wanted to do it, of course. So they used Divine and Damned powers so we weren’t in control of our bodies. We both drew swords, and…” 

Aziraphale came and sat beside Crowley, passing you some tea. Crowley continued, “We unwillingly flew towards each other. Aziraphale was somehow able to stop himself, but I couldn’t, and I… I…” his eyes began to fill with tears. “You were there, watching. You screamed and shouted and fought against the angels and demons that were holding you back. But after… you just stopped, staring at me with such a look of disgust and rage. Both sides turned on you, because of your involvement with us. They did unspeakable things to you, then they threw me into a pool of holy water. It hurt worse than when I fell.” Crowley curled up on his side, not moving, having spoken his part. He was facing away from you. You stared down at your tea, chamomile with a small glob of honey stirred in. 

“That really sucks.” You said, then cringed at your own words. “I mean, I'm really sorry that you had that dream. Is there anything I can do to help?” Crowley stayed on the floor, and didn’t say anything. “We could go for a walk, get you some fresh air. Or we could go for a drive and blast music…” You suggested. Crowley sniffled. “Or we could play video games, or watch some junk television, or anything you like.” You reached over and massaged his neck, which you knew he enjoyed. Aziraphale spoke up. “My dear boy, it’s terribly unfortunate that you had to experience that. I can promise you, however, that we will take _every_ precaution possible to make sure that it doesn’t happen. Adam chose to stop the end of the world, and he will choose humans over and over because that is who he learned to be. I will defend and protect both of you because that is who I am. And you, dearest, are more wily than any angel or demon i’ve encountered. You’re clever enough to outwit them all. That’s who you are. Together, we _will_ look out for each other and keep ourselves safe.” 

You nodded, though Crowley couldn’t see you from his position. “Aziraphale and I don’t make empty promises, Crowley. I can’t guarantee that we won’t be in danger due to certain actions or choices we made.” Crowley whimpered, so you hurriedly added, “But neither of us are leaving your side without a fight. The three of us are in this together.” You sat up suddenly, wrapping your hands around your knees. “I don’t have any magical words that will make what you’re feeling go away. But I do want you to know that Aziraphale and I are here for you, however you need us.” You sipped at your tea, scraping your brain for anything else you could say. But it was late, (or early depending on one’s perception of time) and your eyes were heavy with exhaustion. Your brain felt like it had been dunked into a bucket of sludge. So you sat on the floor, and waited for someone else to say something. 

Slowly, with a concentrated effort, Crowley began to sit up alongside you. Aziraphale helped guide him up gently with his hand. The three of you ended up sitting together, leaning on each other for support. Crowley was sandwiched in the middle of you and Aziraphale. There everyone sat, not saying anything. Time passed, and if you could concentrate, you could almost feel the earth rotating beneath you. Aziraphale asked, “Would you like to try going back to bed, dear? We can stay with you if you would like.” Crowley nodded, and together, you and Aziraphale herded him back to his bed. Crowley changed to his snake form slithered in to bed, and you were about to join him, when Aziraphale stopped you.

You stared at him, confused. His eyes were soft, and his smile was radiant. He leaned in close, and whispered, “I’m very proud of the things you said, dearheart.” You shrugged, feeling your heart flutter at his words, but not wanting him to know. Cautiously, he leaned in and kissed your forehead. Suddenly, the pain in your head and eyes was gone, dried blood vanishing from your clothes and hands. Your face flushed pink, and you grumbled something about kisses and miracles. Aziraphale smiled and turned to climb into bed with Crowley, but not before giving you another kiss, this time to your temple. The three of you bedded down for the next few hours, all cuddling up to each other, and dozing off.

Crowley didn’t have another nightmare that night.

End 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no idea when the next chapter will be posted lolololol  
> HMU with that constructive criticism if you have any.  
> I think I can have another chapter up in 5-7 days, but it might take longer.  
> also who spilled the beans about this story being inspired by a certain archive of our own author. who did that >:Y  
> You can't just tell people you like their stuff directly, you know. you gotta be sneaky about it. At least that's the way my family taught me to be.


	7. Concern, Confusion, Confession (SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now you see Aziraphale and Crowley on a regular basis, but this leads to a lot of questions about who they are and where they come from. You accidentally confess how you feel about them, and fluff ensues.  
> (Chronologically takes place three weeks after chapter one)  
> Next chapter will be NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yee haw here we go again friends. I want to thank everyone for being kind about my writing, your words are really appreciated. <3  
> GO gives me a lot of feelings and this is the one outlet where I can write out my feelings aaaa  
> Also how the hell did this get more than 200 hits and also more than 15k words? I really wasn't expecting this lololol

(Takes place three weeks after chapter one)

It came to pass that grabbing food with Aziraphale and Crowley was a common event. You were relieved that they were willing to pay for your share of the meal. Being strapped for cash was something you were getting used to. You had turned in several job applications, and hadn’t heard any offers yet. You were holding out hope that they were simply deliberating on a decision, instead of just rejecting you and not letting you know. However, the more time passed, the harder it was to stay positive about the situation. 

But as dining with them was now a regular part of your schedule, you learned that there were many neat things about hanging out with those two. For example, you loved to relax and watch the two of them bicker. Even if you didn’t understand what they were talking about all the time, there was something comforting about their back and forth. It would always be about something minor, like Crowley driving too fast (Which you didn’t mind, it just meant you got to places quickly) or the organization of Aziraphale’s books. (apparently, the current system he was using to baffle customers was reverse alphabetical order by the author’s middle initial. From what you heard, having Oscar F. Wilde on the same shelf as B. F. Skinner was enough to make many people gnash their teeth.)

You basically got a free meal every day. Your pride wouldn’t allow it at first, but the allure of high quality food from The Ritz (and other places) was far too much to resist. Aziraphale would ask if you wanted to stick around for desert, and you would grumble and think about how much you probably owed them until the first bite of Amedei Chocolate Mousse would hit your tongue and suddenly you were awash in a sea of chocolate and sugar. By the time you surfaced and came back to reality, Aziraphale and Crowley would be smiling at each other, and your anxiety about money was gone. Still, courses at the Ritz were absurdly expensive. Even if you got a job that payed above minimum wage, it would still take a while to pay them back completely. They assured you multiple times that it was alright, but you never quite believed them, until the seventh time they took you out. That was when your friendship started to change. 

It started out as a normal lunch. You sat comfortably in your chair, listening to the ambiance of the other diners, and the quiet hush of polite conversation. Meanwhile, Crowley was attempting to explain smart phones to Aziraphale. Aziraphale was on the edge of understanding it, asking, “So it has both a calculator _and_ a watch, and it can fit in my breast pocket?” Crowley nodded, adding, “It can do so much more than that, angel”. Aziraphale’s eyes gazed upward in an attempt to remember something half forgotten. “Ah, yes. I believe Adam told me that it… surfs the interweb?” You hid your smile behind your drink, Crowley groaned and hung his head. Aziraphale looked anxious. “Was it something I said?” You were about to reply, when the waiter came over and placed the bill squarely in the middle of the table. You glanced at the final check and winced, averting your eyes quickly. Aziraphale and Crowley stared at each other for a moment, before Aziraphale reached for the check. “I’ll take care of it, I think I still owe you one from… a while ago. Why don’t you two go outside and get some fresh air? I’ll join you shortly. 

So, you and Crowley wandered outside without a clear purpose. A sudden thought struck you, your mind’s eye picking through memories. Had you ever seen Aziraphale or Crowley pull out a wallet? You were certain that Crowley didn’t carry one. His skinny jeans were tight enough that it didn’t take much time to determine he didn’t carry anything in his pockets. He could have carried it in his jacket, but his jacket pockets always looked flat as well. Aziraphale picked up the bill more often than not, but you had never seen him with cash or card in hand. 

Half of you wanted to dismiss the thoughts as crazy, but things weren’t adding up. At least twice, you remembered, you had been guided away by one of them as the other took care of payment. There was another time when Crowley reached his hand into his jacket and suddenly there was a huge crash outside. You turned around, distracted, and by the time you had given a cursory glance to make sure no one was hurt and turned back around, the bill had been settled without you seeing what had happened. They weren’t actually paying for the food, were they? Crowley didn’t have a job as far as you could tell, and though Aziraphale ran a business, by the stories he told about scaring off customers, he couldn’t be making enough of a profit to sustain himself. Then you thought about some other things that didn’t add up.

Your back, damaged and distorted from having lived in your car for a few weeks mysteriously felt better. Your laptop was accidentally smashed on the ground when Aziraphale bumped into you on the way out from a Starbucks, and somehow ended up undamaged. You had left it in a different shop, and half a day later, as you remembered that it had gone missing, it appeared in the front seat of your car. You hadn’t given it much thought having been in a crazed panic that entire day. Now that your mind was not going half mad, you started to remember and connect patterns. Hell, Aziraphale had made a door disappear and reappear when your ex, Alexander, was stalking you. What did this mean? How were they able to do those things? Your mind wanted to jump to the words ‘magic’ and ‘supernatural’, but you were certain that they couldn’t be. The Age of Enlightenment happened, So a whole chunk of the population wasn’t religious any more. The belief in magic was falling out of favor with people, wasn’t it? 

Aziraphale, always gentle and wearing mostly white and cream with hints of tartan, could fit the bill for… well, the very word felt foolish to think of. Crowley, with his penchant for dark clothing and snappy attitude could very well be his counterpart, a…

No. No, that couldn’t be it. There had to be something you were missing. Crowley noticed your silence as you mulled over the facts again and again, trying to find some explanation that made more sense. He cocked his head to one side, and though you couldn’t see his eyes, as they were hidden by the shades he constantly wore, you were certain he was scanning you up and down. “You alright?” he asked. Your eyes snapped over to his, and you laughed nervously. “‘Course. My mind just got a little distracted.” You clapped your hands together, rubbing them as if to ward off a sudden chill. “Now then, have you thought about how you’re going to explain internet culture to Aziraphale yet? He seems a little behind the times, but I'm sure you can catch him up quickly.” Crowley snorted, taking the abrupt change of subject with more ease than you thought he would. “Nah, this one’s going to take some time to sink in for him, ‘specially if he’s calling it the-” He coughed over his laughter. “ _The interweb_.” His eyebrows raised. “You ever have someone you know use outdated slang like that?” 

You mulled the question over. “Well, there was this teacher in her first year of employment that wouldn’t stop using the phrase, “Awesome Sauce” every time she was happy about something.” Crowley’s lips twitched. 

Presently, Aziraphale came out of The Ritz, bill settled, or as you were beginning to suspect, the bill was magicked away. The three of you strode off together, Crowley and Aziraphale linking hands. Aziraphale said he wanted to give you a proper tour of the bookshop instead of the “Panicked settlement of someone in need.” (His words, not yours.) So off the three of you went.

After having been given a tour of his bookshop, You, Aziraphale, and Crowley settled down in the back room, which looked like it held more space than it should from the outside. You quietly filed that information in to the ‘weird stuff’ category of your mind, which was expanding quicker than you wanted it to. Aziraphale provided scones, with the lemon curd you had given him a few weeks ago. He and Crowley drank some wine that you didn’t bother to learn the name of. Time passed in a comfortable manner, and you tried your best to make stimulating conversation. But in between topics, you wondered _why_ they had taken a sudden interest in you.

You barged in to Aziraphale’s bookshop a few weeks ago, and Aziraphale acted as guard and protected you from your ex, then you had left after some conversation in his back room, then returned the next day with the lemon curd to thank him. You had met Crowley instead, who eventually seemed to take a liking to you, and you had assumed that was the end of it. Then you ran into them outside a coffee shop a week later, and they took you out for coffee. Your ex had stalked you outside the coffeeshop, and Aziraphale said he had spooked your ex into giving him your number. You hadn’t minded, but once again you had assumed that the three of you would fall out of contact very quickly. But the next day, Aziraphale had phoned and asked you out to breakfast at the Ivy Chelsea Garden.

Aziraphale was passionate about the food, Crowley loved the plant life, and you agreed without hesitation. It was utterly baffling that they should want to spend time with you and take you to nice places and treat you kindly. It really didn’t make sense. Not only that, but they were being perfect gentlemen. Car doors were opened for you, they were paying for practically everything, and though you felt attracted to both of them, they hadn’t made a move yet, though you would be happy if they did. You weren’t sure, but there were times where it would seem they would look at you with more than a friendly eye, but those moments would pass quickly and things would return to normal. Were they attempting to wine and dine you? Seduce you? You weren’t sure, and the more you thought about it, the more nervous you were. What did they want with you? 

Slowly, the room began to quiet down, as Aziraphale and Crowley noticed the tensions that were crackling inside you. They glanced at each other, then back at you, both frowning. “Is everything alright, dear?” Aziraphale asked. Just like before, you laughed nervously and brushed it off. “Perfectly fine, thanks. I just got distracted with something. But never mind, what was it you were saying about hating Bebop?” Crowley’s frown deepened. “That was three topics ago. We’ve moved on.” His posture went rigid. “You’re lying again, I can feel it.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “I know you can tell I'm lying. It’s because you aren’t human, are you?” Silence reigned for a few moments, and you continued. “Well, not fully human anyway. It’s pretty obvious when I say it out loud. I don’t know what the two of you are, but I don’t think either of you were born on Earth.” Aziraphale scoffed, but averted his eyes. “Don’t be silly, dear. I’m sure that whatever conclusion you made we can easily explain away.” You took a deep breath, and began delivering your evidence, from strange coincidences to contrived meetings, from healed backache to never having seen them pay a bill.

“Finally,“ you explained, “With the fashion sense you both have, it’s clear that the two of you stand out to an absurd degree when compared with the rest of humanity.” Aziraphale’s eyes flickered with pain at the unintentional gibe, so you added quickly, “You wear it well though. Both of you look really good.” Your face heated up, and you attended to your drink of orange juice. Crowley’s smile was smoldering, and Aziraphale’s cheeks were dusted with pink. You continued, wanting to get as much of your feelings out as possible. “I don’t know which you two prefer, to be called handsome or beautiful, but…” Your embarrassment was reaching new heights, so the rest of your sentence came out in a rush. “Ifancybothofyouanddon’tknowhowtocopewiththat.” Your chest tightened suddenly. You sucked in a breath and let it out through clenched teeth before continuing. “I also don’t know why you two have been spending time with me. I appreciate the attention, don’t get me wrong. But the two of you make me feel special and loved and-” You shook your head, interrupting yourself. “I don’t understand why. I really don’t have much to offer in return, I-” You shook your head again. “I-I’ve embarrassed myself enough, I think. I’ll see you two later.” To their shock, you stood up suddenly, and made for the front door. The door was in sight, when you heard the familiar- 

_Click!_

With the snap of fingers, the door was gone. You closed your eyes in frustration. The wall was completely smooth when you reached out to touch it. You pressed some weight against it, but nothing happened. Trying to get your breathing under control was becoming really difficult. What were you thinking, just confessing yourself like that? Two pairs of footsteps approached, and you briefly debated smashing one of the windows just to put this ridiculous day behind you. 

No.

Your shoulders straightened and grew hard. You needed to face this now, then you would make a run for it. There would always be time to leave, but there may not be another time to explain your feelings to someone who was willing to listen. You turned around, attempting to look more brave than you felt. Aziraphale and Crowley seemed to tower over you, though you weren’t sure whether or not it was true in a literal sense. Aziraphale approached closer first. “Do you really mean what you said, dearheart?” 

You licked your lips nervously. “I do. Everything I said, I meant.” 

Crowley piped up suddenly, “Humans are so fast about these things. Zira and I were prepared to play the long game and take our time.” 

You wanted to laugh, hysteria bubbling up. “It’s way too soon for this sort of thing. I shouldn’t have caught feelings for either of you so quickly, but I did, and- and wait a moment. Were you both trying to court me?” 

Crowley’s smile turned wicked. “Among other things, yes. It’s delicious to watch you relax and enjoy yourself under our care.” 

You spluttered. “Enjoy myself? I-” You sighed and put your head on your forehead. “I don’t understand.” 

Aziraphale hesitantly reached out and stroked your cheek. You leaned in to the touch. “You don’t have to understand.” He said. “We can take this one step at a time, as slow as you need us to go. After all, it can’t go as slowly as the courtship between Crowley and I.” Crowley snorted, and seeing your confusion, began to explain.

“Y’see, you were right when you said we weren’t human. Aziraphale’s an angel, and I’m a demon. We’ve lived on earth for about six thousand years.” You nodded as the information sunk in. Crowley continued, “I don’t remember exactly when I started to want Aziraphale as more than a friend. It might have been back at The Garden, or when he gave me some holy water, or anywhere between.” 

Aziraphale replied, “Something inside me woke around World War Two, but it took us longer to admit to ourselves-”

“Or each other-” Crowley muttered. 

“...That we wanted to deepen our bond.” You stared at them, waiting for a surprise prank or someone to start laughing. Nothing happened. Angels and Demons you could handle, but just hearing them casually mention World War Two was stripping the gears in your head. Not only that, but if angels and demons were real, then…

“Does that mean that God and Satan are real too?” You asked. They both shushed you at the same time. “Don’t use their Names darling, you’ll get in trouble.” Crowley explained. You filed that information away for later. 

“Why exactly are you two driving cars and running bookshops, then? I thought angels and demons did short stints on earth and then went back to… their bases, I suppose.” 

That was how the conversation continued. You asked them about everything, and they told you about pieces of their history, the Armageddon-that-wasn’t, Adam and his friends, the facts about supernatural creatures, the term ‘miracle’, how they picked their own side after their tug-of-war that lasted for years, everything under the sun and beyond it. 

You slumped against the nearest wall, breath knocked out of you. You cradled your head in your hands and rocked back and forth gently. Crowley crouched down beside you, not sure whether or not you wanted him to touch you. After a few moments, your rubbed your face with your hands and looked up at them. “I think I'm too sober for this conversation.” you muttered at last. 

“If you come into the backroom with us,” Crowley said, “I think you’ll find your orange juice now has champagne in it.” 

“That’s all I need to hear.” You grumbled and followed them to the back. Before long, you were all sitting comfortably again, and you sipped at your miracled mimosa. You were two or three drinks in before your brain began to settle. Another two, and your legs had practically fused to the couch. “H-hey guys?” you slurred. They turned to you, expressions amused. “Th-thanks for helping stop Armageddon. I dunno if y’ did it for yourselves or for humanity or what, but...” Your brain lagged. “I’m really glad I'm alive. I’ve been much happier since you two came into my life, and stuff.” You stared down at the floor. “Appreciate you both, though the right words for it are missing.” Aziraphale’s eyes lit up in such a beautiful way, and Crowley’s smile brightened the room.

“Oh! Oh my dear that’s so kind of you to say. May I give you a hug?” Aziraphale asked. You giggled, the alcohol having a stronger effect than you anticipated. “I can’t move, angel. You’re going to have to come over here for a hug or pick me up and carry me over to your couch.” (The pet name fell easily from your lips as if you had known each other for years.) He got up from his spot next to Crowley and carried you over as if you didn’t weigh a thing. Settling down again, you ended up sandwiched in the middle of the two of them.

In the far reaches of your mind, you were surprised at how much you trusted them not to harm you or do anything untoward in your altered state. At the same time, the trust you had in them was almost instinctual at that point. You snuggled in deeper to the crook of Aziraphale’s arm and began to drift off. Somehow, you knew that they were going to be in your life for the long term, and couldn’t be happier about it. 

End. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think everyone knows the drill by now. Please give constructive criticism if you have it, because i'd like to improve  
> Next chapter will be up in 5-7 days.  
> But! I feel the need to give a heads up. School is starting for me august 19th, after which updates will probably slow down to a crawl. I wish it wasn't like that. all my favorite fanfic writers disappear when school starts. I don't blame them at all, but sometimes I wish we could have a split where half of students do august-june and the other half do june-april. That way we could have relatively consistent writing throughout the year. Enough about me wanting to change the system though. I hope everyone has a good day today.


	8. The Moments Between Part Two: Crowley’s Boogaloo (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Crowley have sex in his car. This chapter involves: Blowjob, Handjob, Grinding, and Miracled Arousal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. guess who instead of updating on time accidentally went through a depressive episode? Picture me, or your perception of me, doing an emotionally exhausted jazz hands. I had a sort of emotional downturn, which is why this update took so long. sorry about that. also these updates are going to become hella sporadic, because at the time of posting, i'm about to head back to college. yippee. BUT! i'm not giving up on this story at all. slowing down does not equal stopping. There's a story arc I've been wanting to create, and this story does have an ending that i've planned out. it's going to take a while to get there though. many blessings to you and your crew.

The Moments Between Part Two: Crowley’s Boogaloo (NSFW) 

(Takes place eight months after chapter one)

Restraint was one of the heavenly virtues, wasn’t it? Or temperance, or something. Well, you were coming dreadfully close to your breaking point. You, Crowley, and Aziraphale had been in an established relationship for a few months now. When Aziraphale said he was heading to America to look at a few rare first editions of Mark Twain’s books, you bid him farewell and a hasty return. In the meantime, Aziraphale had suggested you and Crowley spend some quality time together, and it sounded like a fabulous idea. But… as it turned out, you and Crowley had some vastly different ideas of what was fun. Lustful glances, heated touches, and the way he walked around you, giving various parts of your body long stares. The worst part though? It was totally working. You grit your teeth and tried to resist. You were all for this kind of attention, especially from him. You were more than willing as well. The truth of the problem was that it had been a really long time since you had last been bedded, and you just didn’t want Crowley to know how riled up he was getting you. You wanted to do so many things to him, and you couldn’t work out whether or not he knew to what extent he was driving you crazy. Your thoughts were slowly being filled up with he and you in a series of poses that sent blood to your cheeks. Was this a natural reaction, or was he using some of his powers to tempt you? You wanted to grind on him until his hips ached with the strain. You wanted to leave bite marks that he would have to awkwardly explain away to his friends. You wanted him to fuck you untill you were raw and-

Wait. Reality snapped back into focus. The streets of London were teeming with people, and the murmur of conversation flooded over your senses, putting a dent in the fog your brain was in. Crowley leaned against a wall about ten feet away from you, smirking. You snarled inwardly and stomped over to him. His eyebrows shifted upwards in surprise, smile falling away somewhat. “YOU!” you growled. He definitely seemed taken aback. He held his hands up in an easy surrender. “Take it easy, sweetheart. It was just a quick temptation.” His grin returned. “From the looks of it, it was working too.” Your shoulders relaxed, a plan forming in your head. “I’d like to talk to you in private. A place where we won’t be seen. Can we go to the Bentley?” His eyebrows rose again, but he didn’t protest and you fell into step behind him.

As soon as the doors of the car were closed, you lept onto his lap and straddled him. Your cheeks flushed a darker shade of red and his tongue darted out nervously. Your anxieties caught up with you. “Wait, shit.” You muttered. “Do you want this? I forgot to ask, i’m so sorry.” He let out a noise between a squeak and a giggle. “You aren’t going too fast for me, if that’s what you’re asking. I didn’t put anything into your head. That’s the way temptation works. I can only amplify what’s already there. This?” He said, looking up and down, “Is all you, and I really want to see where it goes.” That was all the permission you needed. You pressed your lips to his and he opened his mouth willingly. You hummed and sucked his tongue gently, and he tilted his head slightly to give both of you better access. Meanwhile, your hands roamed over his back and sides, seeking out the spots that he liked. You bucked your hips experimentally and adored the noises he was making. It wasn’t as if his hands were idle either though. He lazily drew fingers over your stomach and hips, suddenly grasping them when your tongue pressed at the roof of his mouth. You pulled away suddenly, needing to catch your breath. At some point you had knocked his shades off. His eyes were the color of a fiery sunset, and his pupils had dilated, turning almost entirely round. You were shuddering at the sight of his disheveledness, which was also pleasant for him due to the way your legs were moving against his. “If you want,” You whispered, “You could miracle the Bentley to drive itself and I could keep doing this to you.”

He snapped his fingers, and the Bentley surged to life. You pulled him into a deep kiss, grinding on him without restraint. Your fingers wound their way into his hair and you pulled him back so his neck was exposed. You began to suck at his neck, mapping his adams apple, the tendons of his neck, and to the very top of his chest hair. He whimpered, pleaded, begged, and you wouldn’t mind drawing those noises out of him until the next apocalypse hit. You raised your head and pressed a chaste kiss to the snake tattoo on his upper cheek. You pressed your forehead to his, and muttered, “You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this to you. I have been having so many thoughts about this. About me fucking you.” You could feel his hardness pressing in to you. “I can’t put into words how long it feels like I've been waiting for this. I want to leave you breathless, or screaming my name, whichever comes first.” You eased off of him a little, and he whined at the loss of contact. You caught his eye, and glanced down to the rest of his clothes, silently asking permission. He nodded. You undid the zipper of his skinny jeans and pulled out his cock. It was thick, and dripping, and your control was shattering quickly. Looking upwards once more, to make sure this is what he wanted, you licked your lips and began to lower your mouth onto his dick. You really didn’t want to go slowly, and you took him in as fast as you could. He was moaning your name and shuddering with pleasure, and before you knew it, your lips were touching the base of his shaft. He bucked by accident, and without really thinking about it, you pinned his hips to the seat of his car so he wouldn’t do that again. The Bentley swerved in and out of traffic in a dangerous pattern, racing the two of you to his flat.

You could tell just by glancing out of the window that the car was going way more than the speed limit. But your attention was now on far more important things. The way curses spilled from his lips, the way his hips attempted to roll, and how beautifully he squirmed under your hands and mouth. You sucked, and licked, and played with him, loving every second of it. Suddenly, his hands were on your shoulder, pushing you back slightly. Your lips came off his cock with a wet  _ pop  _ and you stared at him in confusion. He was panting, and had a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. “S-sorry ‘bout that.” He began, “I was getting too close, is all.” You stared at him blankly. “Isn’t the point of stuff like this… to get you to finish?” You asked. His lips twitched. “Yes, but I wanted to even out the score a little first.” Without warning, he snapped his fingers, and you sprawled on the floor and moaned. Your arousal was already pretty high, but with a miracle, it had been sent through the roof. You began to reach under your pants, and then paused. “Wait a minute! I was going to make this about you. You… you maniac!” He snorted, pupils dilating further still. “If that’s the strongest swear you can come up with now, then I haven’t been doing my job properly.” He snapped his fingers again, and you rolled around on the floor, desperately taking off your jeans. He leaned back and stared down at you. “B’sides, this is part of the fun.” Your body grew hot and feverish, and you moaned. Your jeans torn aside, your hand snaked down to your underwear and began to play with yourself. “This isn’t fair, dammit. I wanted for you to lose control, not me.”

Crowley’s tight black jeans were also off, and he was rubbing his dick. He laughed, throwing his head back in a delighted manner. “Hmm? What was that? I’m a demon, darling. I’ve never been out of control like that.” You moaned and began to rub yourself on anything within reach. Your head was pounding in a delightful way, your whole body breaking out into a sweat. There were waves of pleasure cascading over your body, leaving tingling sensations in your arms and legs. The whole of your body between your stomach and thighs trembled with anticipation and want. “C-Crowley, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” His body slouched in an excellent way, showing off his lean, angular build, and the barest hint of his stomach. Crowley spoke suddenly, eyes focused intently on what you were doing. No movement you made, no twitch of your legs or hands escaped his sight. “Imaging how I felt every time I saw you walk by in tank tops and revealing clothing. You aren’t the only one who’s been feeling desire.” You struggled to your knees, body begging itself to lay down and accept how good it felt. But in a strange way, you also wanted to see him undone. You reached for his cock, and he didn’t resist. Once more, you took him in your mouth, and within a few moments he was screaming and cumming into your mouth. You swallowed his whole load, not breaking eye contact. He howled in a low register, the sound of it causing rumblings throughout the car. He grasped at his hair and moaned at the aftershocks which were coursing through his body. His pupils were fully dilated now, and as he settled back into the back seat of his car, he reminded you of a contented cat. 

The Bentley screeched to a halt, having arrived at Crowley’s flat. You sat there, dumbfounded for a moment, and then began to redo the zipper of your pants. You ran a hand through your hair, and unfolded yourself, one hand on the door of his car. Your brain felt blank, and you wanted to be by yourself for a few minutes, so you could process what the hell had just happened. Crowley noticed this, and he snapped his fingers one last time. You moaned, mouth falling open in surprise as a miracled orgasm ripped through your system. You bucked wildly, your knees wobbled, and you accidentally fell over backwards on to Crowley. He quickly undid your jeans again and began to touch you. You grinded on his thigh in order to extend the feelings zapping through you. You felt as though you were scattered among the stars, weightless and untethered, brain floating along of its own will. The two of you lay crumpled against each other, not saying anything. Over time, you were able to piece yourself back together. By the time you were able to look at Crowley, he had his shades back on. There was a deep blush on his cheeks, but that seemed to be the only thing about him that was ruffled. “So.” You began awkwardly. “How about we take a hydration break and then do that again?” 

His smile said it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no idea when the next chapter will be. probably within two weeks though. constructive criticism is always welcome, etc.


	9. Shatter Softly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're attacked by evil forces, and Crowley and Aziraphale come to your rescue. Plans are made to visit some old friends. (The first in a major story arc)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, dear readers. I'm doing much better now. This chapter does cover some topics of mental illness, so watch out for that. It mainly talks about some dissociation, anxiety, and depression, so tread gently if you're sensitive to reading about that. School is getting to be in full swing for me, so I will remind you again that updates are going to be much more inconsistently updated. Thanks for your patience in the meantime.

(Takes place a week after chapter 5)

Today felt fragile. Your eyes itched and burned, feeling like there were cobwebs stuck behind your retinas. Your jaw was tight and overworked from clenching and biting. Your feet ached terribly, and your legs trembled with each step. Your heart felt like thin glass, and as the pressures of daily life increased, it felt like a tap at the wrong place would cause you to shatter. You would return to the dust you came from and be scattered to the wind. But. You weren’t sure if anyone would catch you if you fell. So, you stumbled on. Your hand was on the door to Aziraphale’s bookshop, and it had been for about two minutes. Your brain was fried for a variety of reasons, and you just didn’t want anyone to deal with your nonsense. You were sure he was busy, and as your mind continued to fill with excuses, you peeled your hand off the wooden door and stepped out into the sidewalk, making the decision to come back later when your mood wasn’t so out of sorts. 

You hadn’t seen Aziraphale or Crowley in about a week. They weren’t your only friends, exactly. But they were the closest people you had in your life, and not seeing them in a few days had left you feeling lonelier than usual. The day after Crowley had his nightmare, you took Aziraphale to one side to ask about protecting yourself from the angels and demons that might come after those who stopped Armageddon. Aziraphale hemmed and hawed at the idea of you being armed, but after enough convincing and pleading, he told you where to start looking. He didn’t seem to think that there was much sense in you carrying holy water with you, though that was the first thing you suggested. Aziraphale was worried about a container of holy water breaking or having its seal snapped, and didn’t want Crowley to be hurt as a result. So, carrying a vial of holy water was out. It also turned out that humans couldn’t carry hellfire. There weren’t any earthly vessels that could contain that kind of raw energy, and even if there were, the temperature of the fire was so high that you wouldn’t be able to keep it near you without cooking your insides. One of the reasons your brain was fried was because you were up to your elbows in research (both on the internet and the library) on relics and artifacts that might be able to harm supernatural creatures.

Unfortunately, the demons and angels who had been on Earth for the long term had done an excellent job in obscuring such information and developing clever fakes. After a solid four days of hitting dead ends, you decided to take the day off and do something else. A break might let you put things in a different perspective that hitting walls repeatedly wouldn’t. There was also something else bothering you. A few hours after starting your research on the first day, your head began to ache terribly. At first you had assumed that it was due to dehydration or caffeine withdrawal or perhaps just staring at bright screens for too long, but no matter what you did, it only seemed to get worse. It was a type of ache you hadn’t experienced before. Your head felt like someone was driving a railroad spike straight into the top of your head. The pain seemed to fracture outwards, splintering into different parts of the brain. Every day it got a little worse. The headache was another thing that had been driving your mood down. You missed your partners terribly, and your moods swung like a pendulum from anxiety, to fear, to anger, to just despising yourself. Everything was terrible, and as you walked down the streets of London, you found yourself wondering if this funk would ever end. 

Suddenly, you heard the screeching of tires behind you. You whirled around to see Crowley drive up and _over_ the curb, engine bursting with steam and smoke. It wouldn’t be fair to say Crowley dashed per se, as he didn’t seem like the type to dash about, but he definitely sauntered up to you in a sort of panic; his glasses slid down his nose in a dramatic fashion, clutched your shoulder and pulled you close. His mouth came up to your ear, and as he whispered, the hair on the back of your arms and neck stood up as something dreadful was revealed to you. 

“Something’s gone wrong, you’re in danger, and you need to come with me.” 

Panic rose up and over your body, trapping you in a kind of clammy sweat. Then, your eyes unfocused, making Crowley look double for a moment. Then he slid back into focus, and you were calm again. You snorted and brushed him off, shoving him away from you. “Don’t be ridiculous Crowley. Everything’s fine. I feel fine.” You felt like you were watching yourself from the outside, and wondered why your lips had started spilling lies. The headache was getting worse by the minute. Crowley inhaled deeply through his nose, temper sparked, then he froze. “You… smell different. What’s happened to you? Where’ve you been?” You shrugged, not looking him in the eye. “The library, reading, boring stuff you wouldn’t like.” His teeth were bared and he snarled. “Darling, you’ve been tampered with. Can’t you understand that you don’t mean what you’re saying?” 

“About you not reading?” 

“No, I mean, it’s true that I don’t read, but look!” he exclaimed tapping you on the cheek. “You’re smiling, but-” He reached up and brushed the space under your eyes, and his fingers came back wet. You flinched away from him, surprised. You wiped at your eyes and took a half step back, hunching over trying to make yourself smaller, and dropped your gaze to the floor. “I’m fine Crowley, just have a bit of a headache is all. It’ll pass. I’ll see you around, okay?” You pulled away from his presence, and the world tilted sideways. Crowley caught you before you hit the ground, but it was a close thing. You stared up at him through vision blurred with unshed tears and something that refused to let you focus on reality. He was saying something, but you could only catch scraps of it. 

“-it! -swe -phale -with -effe -tay -love -ntley” were the only things you could hear.

Crowley picked you up in his arms and took you to the Bentley. You crumpled onto the backseat, feeling like bits of you were fracturing to pieces. Crowley’s car roared to life and joined traffic with a speed you hadn’t seen before. “Whaz happenin to me?” you slurred from the backseat. Crowley said nothing, you just heard Crowley’s hands tighten and throttle the steering wheel, and the car creaked with its attempt to obey its master’s desire. You managed to sit up in the back after much struggle. The car slammed to a halt about three minutes later, and you pitched forward and smashed your jaw on to the clutch stick. Pain surged through your face. Crowley half dragged half carried you by the shoulder into Aziraphale’s bookshop. He practically kicked the door open in his fear of what was happening to you. He shouted and before you knew it, Aziraphale had whisked out of the back of his shop and was taking in the sight of what lay before him. You stared at Aziraphale blankly, and you saw the outline of his body begin to blur and glow a golden haze. You lay against Crowley who was supporting most of your weight, and Aziraphale reached forward and touched your head lightly. He began to comb his fingers through your hair, looking upset. His hands began to run hot, hotter than human hands could go. An angeling force was spilling itself throughout your head, cooling and warming you at the same time.

The ache you felt began to retreat little by little. Crowley murmured soothing words into your ear, trying to keep you grounded. Aziraphale said something that you weren’t able to focus on, and Crowley set you down on the floor and followed you down closely, so you ended up half lying in his lap. Aziraphale crouched down next to you and resumed trying to heal your head. Crowley grasped your hands and stared down at them, mind somewhere else. Your eyes closed, tears spilling. You choked on your sobs, emotions unable to be held back any longer. You could feel Aziraphale’s presence deeper than ever before. He was crackling and warm, and though your focus was wavering, you could just catch glimpses of his emotions, how much he loved. His capacity to love was huge. And though no emotion could be divided into sections, you could see how much you were beginning to mean to him. Somehow, against all odds, (you thought,) he loved you. He loved Crowley. He loved Earth. It was an odd combination, the emotion that was coming off of him. It felt light and airy, like a meringue, but it also felt extremely deep, like you were diving into a pool with no bottom. 

The pain you had was trying to fight back somehow, Aziraphale would gain a few inches (so to speak) but then this darkness you were feeling would rear its ugly head and swarm over you. Zira turned his head and muttered something to Crowley, who’s grip tightened on your hands. Then suddenly, you could feel Crowley’s presence in the same way. He was like a strong wall that towered over everything. You felt his love as well, though it was of a different sort. It felt more protective, more possessive. It was a dark mirror to Aziraphale’s emotions, but still love nonetheless. You felt as if he would shield you from anything that could ever happen to you. Aziraphale and Crowley’s presence swirled around you, forming a barrier that cut a chunk of the darkness off from your mind. The love than the three of you felt for each other was fighting off whatever was happening. The pain began to retreat faster and faster, the ache disappearing, you found yourself able to focus again. You sniffled and shuffled closer to them, trying to wrap your mind around what was happening. Their love for you was… genuine. This wasn’t some passing thing that they were feeling, like a way to spice up a milenia long relationship. They cared about you very deeply, despite the relative newness of this connection. The spikes in your head began to disappear or retreat, or whatever. Within a few minutes, you felt relatively normal again. Aziraphale was still gently running his hands through your hair, occasionally sending sparks down the back of your neck, and Crowley hadn’t let go of your hands yet. Finally, you asked, 

“What happened to me?” Crowley sighed, and rubbed tiredly at one of his eyes, while still clutching on to you.

“Some sort of spiritual attack.” He replied. You blinked and asked, “What do you mean by that?” Zira explained, “Occult and Ethereal beings can sense when a human is under attack by something outside themselves. I don’t know what Crowley saw when he approached you, but it looked like you had-” he shuddered. “You had hooks running through you, my dear.”

Hooks?

Crowley nodded in agreement. “I saw em too. Y’see, it’s not hard for beings like us to look at someone’s soul. I’ve seen thousands, being on earth this long. Whether wholesome, unrefined,” he grimaced, “damaged, fractured, all souls look unique, but they have certain patterns when they’re hurt, and in my case, I can exploit that to tempt them. Humans who…” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “...run alongside the supernatural world can sometimes be attacked if they’ve pissed someone off, and you were attacked today. That’s why your head was spiked, and why you had hooks latched to your soul. I could also smell that someone had tampered with your spirit, and as I opened my senses more, I could literally see barbed wire strung through your body.”

“But who exactly have I angered?” you asked. Aziraphale shook his head, not knowing, but Crowley had an answer. “Hastur spoke to me today. He warned me that thousands of demons were still angry about how I acted during armageddon. He said the people who I was close to would be attacked. Well, Aziraphale can handle himself, I thought, but you’re just a human, so I thought you would be more in danger.” 

You didn’t say anything for a few minutes. That’s just what your research was trying to protect you from. You needed to be _more_ for them, you were certain. If you had some weapons that you could use as leverage, you wouldn’t be so… _useless_. You didn’t realize how serious this was becoming. The research was intended as a way to sooth your own anxieties, as well as Crowley’s. You didn’t think you might have to pick up a weapon and stand so soon. The topic was so broad, but all you were hitting were dead ends. Now you were being targeted because of your proximity to your boyfriends. Instead of voicing any of this, you said, “Well, if this Hastur was trying to warn you, then he clearly wanted you to be afraid. Let’s not lose sight of the bigger picture here. We shouldn’t let our fear of something control us like that.”

Aziraphale hummed, and continued to pat your head. “They’re right. Crowley, we can take steps to fix this and protect our dearheart.” You flushed at the pet name and squirmed a bit. You loved the feeling of having two warm beings next to you, it was so relaxing. “So let me get this straight.” You said. “I had some sort of metaphysical barbed spikes running through my soul, which were causing damage, and causing my anxiety and depression to get worse. Whatever that attack was, it needed both of you to fend it off completely. Whatever those spiky things were doing was doing damage to me. Basically ripping and tearing at my spiritual self, which caused me to spiral out of control and be unable to focus. Was there anything specific I was doing that caused them to attack me, or was I just the first person selected?” 

Crowley murmured, “You said you were doing research when I first saw you. What exactly were you researching?” 

You flushed a little as you spoke. “Oh you know, a bit of this and that, holy weapons, defenses against angels, that sort of thing. I can’t seem to find the locations of anything mentioned though.” Crowley snorted. “That’ll do it. Every time you make a move against their sides, they’ll come after you.” Aziraphale sighed, saying. “Really, my dear? I thought you were more interested in theoreticals, not actively seeking out weapons.” 

You smiled up at him warily, and said, “Seems like I need to speed up my research and look harder. They’ll be coming after me again, I think.” A thought struck you. “You know, I might not be the only one who’s attacked. Adam and his friends, that Madame Tracy, Mr. Shadwell, all the people you mentioned; maybe you two should check on them to see if they’re alright.” 

“A capital idea!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “We could make it a kind of day trip, and see some old friends. At least that’s what we can tell them when we visit.” 

So the three of you agreed to set out as soon as possible to check up on them. But not just yet. Your brain was still recovering from being assaulted like that. The ache and spiky feeling was gone, but you had become exhausted in the meantime. Crowley got up and paced around the room nervously, and Zira got up to fetch some refreshing tea. Without anything further to do, you simply lay on the floor with your thoughts. You had a brief idea of using one of Aziraphale’s first editions as a pillow for your head, just to tease him, but the thought of moving right now was just too much. Crowley stared down at you impassively, then took his jacket off and folded it up. He squatted next to you, and gently lifted your head, placing the jacket underneath. You grinned up at him, finding it easy to do so. Chuckling, you said, “I almost feel like making fun of you for your emotions. Something like, ‘Ha ha, You Love Me.’ would do the trick.” He glared at you, not saying anything. You continued, “That’s probably not the thing I should take away from what’s happened today, but… It’s never really happened to me before. I’ve never…” You gestured vaguely at the ceiling. “I don’t think anyone’s really liked me as much as you two do. It’s caught me completely off guard. Like. I'm actually loved. It feels like such a wild concept, y’know? Even though it probably shouldn’t. I dunno what i’m saying all that for. Just forget it.” His eyes softened, and he gently squatted down and ran his fingers through your hair. Aziraphale came in with some herbal tea, and you drank greedily.

The three of you drank in silence for a few minutes, everyone with their own thoughts. You leaned against one of the bookshelves, gingerly sipping at your hot drink. Camomile with a drop of honey, which was quickly becoming your usual selection. Suddenly, you put your tea down, and clapped your hands together. “Right!” you said. “I don’t think the passage of time is going to wait for us much longer. Should we get a move on?” Aziraphale asked, “Are you quite sure you are going to be alright, dearest? Those hooks were in very deep. Your safety is our main priority now.” You waved him off impatiently. “I’ll be fine.” you proclaimed. “I’m sure I've had worse hangovers, or felt worse after a studying binge. I can manage. And please stop saying such cute things Zira, or i’ll come over there and smooch you. With your permission, of course.” His cheeks dusted with pink, and he took a sip of his tea and muttered several things under his breath. Crowley helped you to your feet, and the three of you went to the Bentley, with the intention of heading towards Tadfield. What the three of you would find there, you didn’t know. But, your priorities quickly changed. You needed to find a way to protect everyone from these attacks that you were now sure were coming. You had no idea how or where you could prepare for these invasions, but you knew you had to try your hardest. The people most important to you were now in danger. You must protect them at all costs, (including and up to) giving your life for one of them. They were much more important than you were, right? 

Right?

End. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up in between 1-2 weeks, not sure about an exact date. Remember that constructive criticism is always welcome, so get silly with it. The full story arc has been planned out, so I know how the story will end, just not when. This is getting to be one of the longest stories i've ever written, which has taken me by surprise. the most i've ever written for a story was around 30,000 words for a NaNoWriMo challenge, and this story might end up surpassing that. :o  
> many blessings to you all, and yeehaw


	10. Author Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick update on what's been happening.

A/N: Hello everyone. I decided to write this update to let y'all know what’s been happening in my life lately. I want so desperately to continue this story, but I can’t. I’ve been trying to continue this story for so long, and haven’t been able to manage it. My mental health has been in the toilet for a while now, which is why I've been updating less frequently. I wrote these stories because I have been struggling for a long time with some personal issues, and I was hoping by writing some self inserts with loads of fluff I could hold off what’s been happening. The truth is I have been struggling with depression and gender dysphoria. I don’t know if I am trans or non-binary, but I know i’m not happy being a girl. Take my word for it please, I don’t want to go into detail about how much I hate my body. The Good Omens fandom has been really supportive of people like me, and I am glad. That being said, due to life circumstances and health problems, I am putting my writing on hiatus until my mental health improves. I love you all, and wish everyone the best.

That being said, if I can make it through this depression, the story will continue when I am well. 

Yours, Jay


	11. Visitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, Aziraphale, and Crowley go to visit Madame Tracy and Mr. Shadwell, and that's when things start to go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOO guess who's back! Sorry it's been a while, dear readers. I did say I would get around to finishing this story eventually. Sorry it took so long, I had some serious mental health issues which were made worse by recent events, as you can imagine. Anyway, I got jazzed up by the Good Omens: Lockdown video, and finally found some strength to finish off the chapter. More details in the end notes, if you are interested. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Blood, gore, panic attacks.

“Righ’ then!” the old man shouted as he pointed at you. “How many nipples ‘ave you got then?” You stared at him in disbelief, not sure how to respond. Crowley shifted closer towards you, casually draping himself over your body. Suddenly an idea popped into your head. What would any rational, mentally healthy person do when asked an uncomfortable question? Lie, of course! 

“Just one.” you replied. His eyes widened incredulously. You stood up straighter, trying your hardest not to crack a smile. “I used to have two, as any decent citizen should have.” Sighing, looking far off into the distance, you continued. “Unfortunately, my right nipple was sandblasted off in an industrial accident at Lucky Smells Lumbermill.” There was a terrible silence, and you could feel Crowley shaking with suppressed laughter. Aziraphale stared at you in frustrated amusement. “Dearest, I think I would have noticed if that was true when we first had-” Crowley howled with laughter and you ducked your head down into your sweater. The man, whose name turned out to be Mr. Shadwell, simply stared at the three of you in disgust. “Yer nuts, all of ya. Get a move on.” 

The three of you followed him towards the back of a little cottage. The cottage was pearl white with black borders and a thatched roof. It was small, squatish, and square. It was the sort of place you were sure Aziraphale would like. Mr. Shadwell led the three of you into a cozy kitchen. The walls were a pale yellow, and there were sheer curtains with floral patterns. Glancing around, you saw little knick knacks decorating the countertops and shelves. Like ceramic pigs that doubled as spice holders, that sort of thing. It was a very small space, and you stood closer to Aziraphale and Crowley than what would have been socially acceptable. You didn’t mind at all. Crowley hadn’t stopped draping himself over you. You knew as fall set in he would start to struggle with the cold more, so you didn’t complain as he took micro naps on your shoulder. You supported his weight as you ventured further into the kitchen. 

Sitting at the kitchen table was a woman dressed in a green cardigan sweater. She had bright ginger hair and thick red lipstick, and she smiled warmly at everyone. “It’s good to see you two again.” She said in a grandmotherly way. “And who’s this third person you’ve got with you?” You waved shyly and smiled. “I’m ah… their latest tagalong.” You explained. She nodded to herself in a confirming sort of manner. “It’s lovely to meet you in person at last.” 

“How- you know who I am?” You asked, eyebrows shooting up.

She opened her hands and spread them in a dramatic gesture. “Well, of course dear. Aziraphale has written me at least a couple dozen letters since the world was meant to end, and he’s mentioned you quite a few times. Such wonderful descriptions, too. My name is Madame Tracy by the way.” You glanced over at Aziraphale to confirm the information about the letters, and he was steadily turning a lovely shade of pink. “Honestly Zira,” You sighed, “You need to stop being so damned charming. It’s not good for my heart.” He fidgeted slightly, glancing nervously around the room. “I think, I think we are getting off the subject, dearest. We came over to discuss the state of affairs, such as it is.” He turned to Madame Tracy. “We think the forces of heaven and hell are moving again, and we wanted to check around and make sure everything is tickety boo.” Crowley snuffled into your shoulder, trying to cover his snickers. Madame Tracy gestured for everyone to sit down on what could only be described as the most gaudy seats you had ever seen. They were made from red velvet with a floral fringe.

Fortunately, they were fairly comfy and had straight tall backs that you rested against. Mr. Shadwell, meanwhile, muttered something about hunting witches and clambered up the stairs in a furious manner. “He’s just off to his little workshop upstairs.” Madame Tracy explained. “Oh the dear loves to putter about up there, plotting and planning for the next fight.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He still thinks his hand is blessed from when the last apocalypse started. I haven’t had the heart to tell him.” You stared at her for a moment, then cleared your throat. “Do you or anyone else you know have any idea where we can find something to kill supernatural people? I’ve been doing as much research as I can, but…” You trailed off as Madame Tracy gave you a sad smile. Crowley, who had been slouching in his chair, almost asleep again, switched positions and buried his face into your shoulder. When he glanced up, you could just see over the rims of his glasses, and his golden eyes gazed up at you with adoration and worry. It wasn’t something you wanted to talk about with someone who claimed they knew you well when you hadn’t met them more than once yet. “Let’s just say, it didn’t end well.” finishing your sentence with less than brave words, you thought. Madame Tracy said nothing, but sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Are you sure you want to talk about this now? I can tell this isn’t an easy conversation for you to have. Wouldn’t you like some tea first?” She asked after a few moments. “I’m not sure there’s any tea strong enough to help.” You replied. “What if I put some whiskey and lemon in, and made you a kind of hot toddy?” Your lips twitched, “Maybe. That sounds rather nice, if you don’t mind.” She began to bustle around the kitchen, and for the second time in a long while, the sound of clinking mugs filled you with inner peace. Perhaps if there was still time to have a cup of tea, then things hadn’t gone completely to shit yet. You glanced at Aziraphale nervously. “Sorry.” 

“Whatever for, dear?”

“I don’t know. I’m just feeling very anxious today.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, and you hummed in appreciation. One of your hands was shaking badly, and Crowley grabbed it. Feeling the pressure of his fingers on top of yours grounded you, and breathing became a little easier. Some fresh air came from a nearby open window, and if you focused, you could hear birds chirping. Your brain still felt tired from the spiritual attack you had endured a few days ago. But you didn’t want to focus on that at the moment. You needed to make sure everyone who had faced Armageddon last time were still okay. That mattered more than your own emotional problems, or at least it felt that way. You were sure, though you hadn’t asked them, that Aziraphale and Crowley would agree. Research, weapons, artifacts, and keeping people safe was now your highest priority, no matter the cost. 

In the meantime, Madame Tracy set down hot drinks for everyone. You had the aforementioned hot toddy, Aziraphale had some hot chocolate, and Crowley, as usual, didn’t want anything. You took a large draft of the drink and hummed in contentment. It was pretty good. However, after a few minutes of idle chatter, you pursed your lips and started to get impatient. There didn’t seem to be any signs of influence from either side here, so why-

Suddenly, from upstairs, the sound of shouting and breaking glass could be heard. While Mr. Shadwell had gone upstairs by himself, there was now an additional voice with him. Aziraphale and Crowley jumped up immediately, as if they were expecting this to happen, and you froze. Aziraphale and Crowley began to glow their respective colors as they bounded up the stairs towards the sounds of conflict. Madame Tracy was right behind them, and you were left at the table. 

A few seconds passed, and you finally plucked up your courage and followed. After a moment’s hesitation, you turned back to the table and took your half full drink with you. You burst into the room to see a horrific sight. Mr. Shadwell had a black eye, and his nose was bleeding. Shadwell defiantly stood shouting, “Away with ye, demon spawn, or I’ll use my hand and blast you back to the abyss!” Standing across from him, eyes black like the void, Hastur, Duke of Hell was laughing. Books and trinkets were tossed about haphazardly, some corners of the pages were charred and smoking. Aziraphale and Crowley were still glowing, but the glow alone wouldn’t be enough to strike fear into an experienced demon’s heart. A wave of panic threatened to overwhelm you, and you quickly stepped out of the room before Hastur could spot you. Crowley was the only demon you had seen in the flesh until now, and if that was what the average demon looked like, cackling madly, you didn’t want to stick around to see anything else. But how could you possibly help now? Your eyes scanned the walls, looking for anything that might help. Finding nothing, you crept back into the room, to see Aziraphale gesturing with his eyes and head to stand near the stairs you had just come up. Hastur was so caught up in frightening his enemy, that he didn’t see you or Aziraphale giving you a signal. 

“You, Crowley, are a fool if you didn’t think we would be checking up on you eventually. Now, you will pay for your treachery against hell. You and your angel friend will die here, along with everyone else in this house. Do you have any last words?”

Crowley sniffed. “Ye-well. Just the one I suppose. If you want to vanquish an enemy quickly-”

He snapped his fingers.

Hastur was teleported to the top of the stairs, unbalanced. Without thinking about what you were doing, you pushed him roughly, and he tumbled, hitting his head and back repeatedly as he fell.

He stopped in an undignified heap at the bottom of the stairs, bruised and disheveled. 

“-Don’t leave them with enough time to perform a miracle.” Crowley finished.

Still surging on adrenaline, you picked up a stag head that was mounted on the wall, and chucked it at Hastur, aiming for his head.

THWACK!

Right on target. 

Hastur was still alive, and he groaned weakly. There was a lot of blood decorating the glass door and carpet. He rolled to his feet slowly, and his head was horribly misshapen. You clamped your hand over your mouth, trying not to feel sick. If that had been a human, their life might have been in critical danger. As it was, one of Hastur’s eyes was hanging from it’s socket. He gazed up at you with such venom and hatred, you could feel absolute terror trying to rampage its way through your system. Before realizing what you were saying, you found yourself shouting at the monster. “GET OUT OF HERE NOW, OR YOU WILL HAVE ME TO DEAL WITH!” You picked up a large wall mirror nearby, and held it over your head threateningly. Hastur looked shocked that a mortal could do such a thing, and turned himself into smoke before flying out a nearby window.

The strain on your arms was too much so you let the mirror slide from your fingers. Aziraphale caught the mirror quickly, and placed it back on its hook. You began to tremble all over. Suddenly, nothing was right. You struggled to breathe, and it didn’t feel like air was reaching you at all. All you could do was stand there, struggling to catch your breath. Every time you did manage a breath in, it was a wheezing, groaning thing. Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other in alarm. Aziraphale reached out to touch you with an angelic hand. Sweat mingled with the tears in your eyes. Aziraphale managed to help you sit on the ground, and Crowley hovered nearby, uncertain of what to do. Madame Tracy left the room to check in on Mr. Shadwell.

“Dearest?” Aziraphale began. “It’s alright, you are safe.” You whimpered, not being able to focus on anything. “Listen to me, dearheart. Can you hear me? Just shake or nod your head.”

Crowley muttered, “if they can’t hear you, then how are they going to shake their head?”

Aziraphale glared up at Crowley, who looked away, somewhat chastised.

You nodded your head, which thankfully Aziraphale saw. Crowley squatted near you, and hesitantly began to rub his fingers through your hair. “S-s-I- I ca-can’t…” You gasped. 

“It’s alright, don’t try and talk.” Crowley said. He snapped his fingers, and a cool glass of water was in his hands. Your eyes were blurred with tears, and Crowley guided your hand to grasp on to the water. You spilled water everywhere, but managed to get some in your mouth after a few tries. Aziraphale and Crowley were nearby, exchanging looks of concern. You sniffled, and set the glass aside, and made a grabbing motion with your hands. “I- I need…” Luckily, Aziraphale and Crowley got the message, and snuggled up close to you. The tears made little puddles on the carpet, and you observed them in a sort of bile fascination. Everything still felt very distant, but as your boyfriends held you close and gave off body heat, the world slid a little more back into focus. Soon, Madame Tracy came out, eyes red. “Mr. Shadwell will be alright presently,” She said. “I hate to think of what might have happened if you three weren’t here, but I- Oh my goodness am I glad that isn’t the case.” She saw the miserable state you were in, and excused herself to look for bandages and salve for Mr. Shadwell. You were shivering now, and distantly annoyed that your body wasn’t complying to your wishes. For the present moment, you tried to compose yourself as best as you could. There would be a better time and place to deal with your emotions, now didn’t seem like the best place.

A few minutes later, your eyes were dry, but you still felt numb. “S-Sorry about that.” you murmured. “I don’t know what came over me. Can we- Can you two miracle the house and Mr. Shadwell back to normal and then… I don’t know. I need to rest somewhere for a while.” You shuddered. You weren’t expecting to have that extreme of a reaction, but seeing the blood everywhere, and thinking of the things you were capable of under the influence of adrenaline made you extremely worried. There was a squelching noise that happened when you struck Hastur with the deer head that made you nauseous. Aziraphale and Crowley agreed to this, and a few miracles later, the blood in the house disappeared, Mr. Shadwell’s injuries were gone, and you were back in Crowley’s apartment. You shakily got into pajamas, and slid under the covers. Aziraphale and Crowley stood at the foot of the bed awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. You peaked your head above the bed sheets, and said,

“Please miracle some sort of protection around the house of Madame Tracy and Mr. Shadwell. A ward, or protective circle or something would be best. If you can, please do the same for everyone else who was involved with the last Armageddon. I think they will need it. After that-” here your voice got a lot quieter, and even with advanced senses, Aziraphale and Crowley had to get a little closer to listen to you properly. 

“After you’ve done that, I’d like you two to come back here and… stand guard if you are willing.” You fell into an uneasy sleep after you had asked this, and you awoke about half an hour later to Aziraphale and Crowley standing guard over you, with wings outstretched. You smiled slightly, and fell back asleep, knowing you were absolutely safe with your lovers watching over you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad about not posting earlier. Time and health ran away from me quickly, leaving me drained and upset about a variety of things. It took a lot of encouragement from the good members of my family, but I finally did it. I want to be the sort of author who keeps promises, and I intend to keep every promise I make. I promised I would not abandon this work, and I didn't! It just took a lot longer than expected to be able to finish up. Oddly enough I started this chapter back in February, and only just managed to finish it. The story is back y'all, and I'm here to finish it. (how long that will take and how many chapters this will end at is still up in the air, so hold tight.)  
> Sorry about the abrupt ending, i'll be more careful in the future about stopping smoothly.  
> I love you all, and please stay safe!

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter will be up in about 4 days. Please give constructive criticism, i'd like to improve. I'll warn you if there's going to be a NSFW chapter, it will be in the chapter heading most likely. 
> 
> P.S - Plonk is totally a word, so help me god I will get it into the dictionary one day.
> 
> The story's title is likely to change as soon as I can think of something better.


End file.
